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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27252880">Doors That We Can't Walk Through</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame'>flightinflame</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Marble and Mirrors [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Captivity, Charles Xavier in a Wheelchair, Enemies to Lovers, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, F/F, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Human Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mutant Powers, freakshow - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:34:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>94,119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27252880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles does what he can for mutants - helps them towards safety, or guides them to Logan's freakshow where they might find a home. He knows society's views are wrong, but there is little he is able to do within the law. Things change when he finds himself attacked in his home by someone with murder on his mind.</p><p>Erik knows all about scientists, what they are capable of. And on paper, this Doctor Xavier looks terrible. He suspects the world would be better off without him. With his powers, its easy to slip into the manor at night. But he wasn't expecting a telepath.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Summers &amp; Scott Summers, Armando Muñoz/Alex Summers, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Irene Adler (X-Men)/Raven | Mystique, Jean Grey &amp; Charles Xavier, Kurt Wagner/Warren Worthington III, Logan (X-Men)/Hank McCoy, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Raven | Mystique &amp; Charles Xavier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Marble and Mirrors [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916608</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>205</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>208</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you so much to everyone who has helped me plan this, including Midrashic, Niofo, TnC, Lynds, and my wonderful beta InsertSthMeaningful (any problems remaining are my own!). Thank you also to Rogue for some amazing comments that really made me think.</p><p>No regular update schedule for this (at least not yet) because life is a lot. But I wanted to post it.</p><p>Title from Greatest Showman "Rewrite the Stars"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One of the things Charles's mother had taught him, before she had become too lost in drink to know her own son, was that if you laid down with dogs you got fleas. The most important attribute a man could have was his reputation, and whilst the Xavier name carried with it a lot of respect, it wouldn't take much to send them plunging into infamy. The fact that the woman who said this failed completely to follow her own advice was neither here nor there. The Xavier line was considered wealthy enough to have more than their fair share of passing eccentricities, but if they pushed too hard they had a long way to fall.</p><p>Charles understood completely what it was that his mother had meant by that saying. However, looking across the table at the hairy bulk of the man who served as Stryker's bodyguard, he couldn't help feeling it applied more literally as well. The man seemed utterly unaware of Charles's attention, ignoring him as he leaned in to sniff at the blindfolded boy who was the whole purpose of their meeting. </p><p>The man's tongue flicked out, brushing against the boy's ear, and he cringed, ducking away. Charles reached into the man's fetid thoughts to ensure he didn't continue to intimidate the child, but before he could Stryker cleared his throat. "Not here, Victor."</p><p>"You really should control him better," Essex said conversationally from the boy's other side, one hand resting jovially on his shoulder, playing the part of the boy's protector. The boy leaned into it, and Charles could feel his fear, his terror. He leaned forwards in his chair, brushing his mind against the boy's, soothing some of the fear. He couldn't reveal his telepathy here, but he could at least help.</p><p>"I don't see why he's of interest to you." Looking across at Stryker, Charles made himself smile. "You're normally interested in those who could be of use for your collection of freaks. And his mutation seems interesting, but hardly... something that will prove popular with an audience." It was easy to accompany those words with a sense of certainty aimed at Stryker, a silent guide that perhaps he would be better off not worrying about the boy. Just hand him over to Charles and be done with it, let Charles deal with the potential chaos - nothing strong enough to be persuasive, but nudging him in the right direction.</p><p>"And he's of scientific use to you?" Essex asked, and Charles could feel the man's curiosity as to what he would be able to do. To him, the boy here was just an experiment, and he thought that Charles saw him as the same. Charles thought of his adopted daughter, at home and being cared for by Alex. If these men had their way, Jean would be treated the same as this child, and he couldn't allow that to happen.</p><p>"I believe so. I am currently interested in the refraction of light and its combination with different ethers." He gazed straight at Stryker's guard as he spoke, aware of the presence of Darwin's mind in the carriage, ready to take them home when he emerged. He just had to get the boy out of here, to safety.</p><p>"And why do you think I should go along with that?" Stryker asked as Essex began to be taken in by the scientific words he used with such ease and familiarity.</p><p>"Because I might learn something of use for your show and would be glad to share it," Charles encouraged, cajoling with words and thoughts. He had promised to himself that this child would be saved, but if he could do it in a way that felt peaceful, in a way that meant he could save other children later - that just seemed all the better. "Essex, my papers on the potential applications of telepathy have been useful to your research. I'm asking for a little quid pro quo."</p><p>Essex's mind was full of uncertainty, reluctance and awareness that the boy was of limited use - that the boy's worth had fallen when his brother had managed to escape. Without a control subject, the information gained from results was negligible. That was why he'd even considered giving the boy up. Charles simply had to persuade him to go along with what he was thinking - to show him that Charles was the logical person to entrust with the care of the boy. It was easy to argue that this was necessary.</p><p>Victor was sniffing the air again, sharpened fingernails scratching at the wood of the table, and the boy flinched but then held himself straight. </p><p>Stryker smirked. "You know, Charles, a man of your wealth doesn't need to have these interests. People talk."</p><p>"I can't face a lifetime of idleness," Charles answered, his voice calm, knowing he was close to winning. "And since marriage is... unlikely for me, I find my interest where I can."</p><p>Stryker's gaze settled on his wooden chair, but he sneered. "The kid wouldn't make a decent display anyway." </p><p>And like that, it was decided, the matter conceded with barely any grousing from the guard. Charles reached out for the familiarity of Darwin's mind, passing on three simple words. <i>I've got him.</i> That said, he cut the connection and wheeled around the table, getting the blindfolded boy to rest his hand against the back of Charles's chair, and slowly wheeling out to where his carriage waited. The boy stayed unnaturally quiet until they were inside the cab, before he turned to face him, his head held high. He looked a lot like his brother at the moment, and Charles felt a deep sense of satisfaction in the knowledge that soon they would be reunited. He resisted the urge to touch him, not wanting to frighten the boy, but he smiled. </p><p>"It's alright, Scott. We'll be home soon. Alex is waiting."</p><p>The boy's mouth opened in silent surprise, before he swallowed nervously. "You... you know my name?"</p><p>"I do. I know it's hard to believe right now, Scott, but you are safe." Charles dug around in the box that fitted beneath his seat, pulling out a thick woollen blanket and draping it over the boy's narrow shoulders. </p><p>"Why?" Scott asked, and he spoke with the innocence of a child who had given up - who didn't think he was worth anything kind in the world. Charles had braced himself for anger like Alex's, but this wasn't anger. It was despair, and hopelessness, and a sorrow so deep it drowned out fear.</p><p>"Because someone needs to look after you, and Essex has done a bad job of that," Charles answered, glad it wasn't too long until they were home. He regretted not bringing food with him. At the bottom of the box there was a handful of toffees wrapped in wax paper that had been left behind after a long trip a few weeks back. He tried one gingerly and decided they were edible. "Scott? I've got some toffees here..." He picked one out, and placed it on Scott's palm. "Eat it."</p><p>The boy complied with mechanical obedience, until he registered the sweetness of the food, and then he smiled broadly, before licking his palm clean. Charles felt a swell of indulgent fondness settling in his chest. "We'll be home soon."</p><p>Scott didn't say anything, a quiet companion, leaning against the wall of the carriage, his face turned towards the window even though blindfolded he couldn't see outside. He sniffled a little.</p><p>"Are you alright, Scott?"</p><p>"I'm fine, thank you, sir," the boy answered politely, drawing his knees up against his chest, and Charles could hear all his frantic thoughts, but he didn't want to hurt him worse by mentioning his telepathy - there would be time for that discussion when the boy had been given some hot food and a desperately needed bath.</p><p><i>How is he doing, Doctor?</i> Darwin's voice sounded in his head, and Charles sent back the image of Scott as he looked at that moment - far too thin, with fading bruises and yet fire burning within him. </p><p><i>He's warm, and soon he'll eat. The rest will come with time,</i> Charles answered. It wasn't the first time he'd found a mutant child in need. Often, he'd passed them along to Logan, who had found his own ways of helping. But Charles's home was far from empty. Jean and Alex were wonderful company, and soon Scott would be one of the family as well.</p><p>Out of the window, Charles watched as the manor slowly came into view. He reached out with his telepathy, brushing his thoughts against Alex's. It had gotten late, the sky taking on a deep orange tint, and Jean had already eaten her supper. <i>Alex?</i></p><p>
  <i>Yes, Doctor?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>We'll be back soon. I rescued the child. He's half starved and far too thin. Can you make up some hot milk and honey for him and start to draw a warm bath?</i>
</p><p><i>Yes, Doctor,</i> Alex answered, and Charles could hear the smirk in his charge's voice. Alex had grown in confidence a lot from when Charles had first brought him home, saved from the gallows. It had taken a while for Alex to feel comfortable around telepathy, having had his own mind manipulated when he was younger, but now they spoke that way easily. </p><p>Charles knew how  much Alex missed his brother, how he longed for him, dreamed of him. He understood how hard it was for Alex to know that his little brother was out there somewhere, suffering in a lab, and realising there was nothing that he could do to save him.</p><p>Now, though, Charles was going to change that. He smiled to himself, imagining the look on Alex's face when he saw Scott climbing from the carriage.</p><p>"Scott, we'll be home fairly soon. I know that so far you can't take off that blindfold, but did you hear anything that Essex told you about your ability?"</p><p>"No, sorry, sir," The boy answered, but even as he said so Charles could hear thoughts racing along - fragments that the boy hadn't understood. But he'd worked with Alex on his own mutation, and he knew enough to be able to put together the slivers of scientific chatter which Scott had overheard and found meaningless. Rose quartz could be used to focus his mutation, to let him live something which would approach a normal and pain-free life. Still, that was a problem to be faced another day.</p><p>"Scott, when we get home, I'm going to need you to keep your blindfold on, at least for now. I will find a way to help you, but so far it would be too risky..."</p><p>The boy nodded obediently again, and Charles smiled even if the kid couldn't see it. They'd be back soon, and things would change. Scott would get a fresh start.</p><p>Charles checked in with Jean as soon as the carriage pulled up outside of the manor. She was happily reading in his study, curled up by the fire. <i>You need to go to bed soon.</i></p><p><i>I just want to read a little more, please, Charles...</i> Jean wheedled, and Charles acquiesced - he would get Scott settled, and then go and put his adoptive daughter to bed.</p><p>Darwin was ever-helpful in removing his chair from the carriage and supporting Charles in settling into it. <i>We're here, Alex, could you please put the milk into a mug for our latest rescue?</i> Charles instructed, before turning back to the carriage. "Come on, Scott. Come down, there we go..." With gentle words, he guided Scott from the carriage and encouraged him to hold on to the back of Charles's chair once more. "This is my house. You're going to have your own room, and regular food. You're safe, like I promised," Charles encouraged, cajoling Scott into staying with him.</p><p>"I live with a few other people. Now, I know this is a big house, but I will see what I can do about providing you with some of your vision. And regardless, you will have support here. You'll learn your way around," Charles explained, pausing at the door to the small drawing room, which was where he normally welcomed guests who had arrived in less than ideal circumstances. "We're going to come in and have a sit down, and you can ask any questions you need, and my friend will bring you a warm drink."</p><p>Scott nodded obediently, and Charles led him to the room and then over to the couch. The boy settled there quietly, clearly awaiting instruction.</p><p>
  <i>Alex, if you could bring the drinks to the smaller drawing room?</i>
</p><p><i>On my way, doctor,</i> Alex replied, and Charles settled himself so that he could see the doorway. Alex approached, carrying a tray on which rested three drinks - sweetened hot milk for the child, and tea for himself and Alex. Alex's focus was on not spilling the drinks.</p><p>"Just put them on the table please, Alex," Charles instructed. Alex obeyed, and then turned around, his gaze instantly settling on the boy resting on the couch.</p><p>"Scott?" He breathed the word, as though speaking loudly would mean he lost him in his entirety. "Scott, is that really you?"</p><p>"Alex?" Scott asked, sitting up a little straighter, raising one hand to reach towards the sound. Alex surged forwards, embracing him, pressing a gentle kiss to Scott's forehead, stroking hair from his face.</p><p>"I missed you," Alex murmured, and Charles was careful not to peer too deeply into their minds, although the joy that was filling the room was almost deafening. Alex's arms wrapped around his brother's slender form, pressing him close, as he rocked him a little, and Scott clung to Alex's shirt like a frightened infant.</p><p>Slowly, Scott calmed, still gripping his brother. Alex was returning the embrace with the same eagerness, scarcely able to believe what his eyes were telling him. Eventually, he looked up at Charles. "How?"</p><p>"I've been working to get him home for a while. Now, please give him that drink - he needs to put on some weight and be kept warm, and that will help with both."</p><p>Alex obeyed, his hands trembling a little, but he stepped away to fetch the mug of sweetened milk, guiding it into his brother's hands and encouraging him to drink it. Scott tucked himself against his older brother's frame, shivering a little but soothed by the stubborn presence of the older boy.</p><p>Charles smiled to himself as Scott drank the milk, knowing he desperately needed some food in him. "Thank you, Alex."</p><p>"You knew? You planned..."</p><p>"I didn't want to risk you getting too emotional. Not until I got him home," Charles explained, moving his chair a little way from the reunited brothers. "I thought he could have the room beside yours. But yes, for now make sure he drinks all of that milk, and then wash him. I've asked Darwin to prepare some soup for afterwards. I'd best put Jean to bed."</p><p>"Thank you, Charles," Alex murmured, and Charles knew he was sincere, knew he was overwhelmed by the fact his brother was home. Charles smiled to himself. There were times when he questioned his work, when he wondered if he might just make things worse. But at that moment, it was quite clear to him that he was helping. He'd got Scott home to his brother. The rest would fall into place in time.</p><p>He headed to his study, planning to get Jean to bed and then write a missive of thanks to Logan for his help in this particular exertion.</p><p>Jean looked up from where she was sprawled before the fire. "Papa?"</p><p>"Hello, Jean. How was your evening?"</p><p>She shoved her answer towards him, a jumble of half-formed mental images. She was still learning how to be clear and concise, but what she showed was enough to reveal she was happy. That was enough for now, the finesse could come later.</p><p>He was impressed by how far she had come already from the frightened girl he had brought home a few months previously - after her mother died in an accident, and her father had decided she was to blame. She was happy here, growing stronger in her powers every day, and he felt a contented sense of rightness settle in his chest at the fact she was doing so well.</p><p>"Bed time, darling," he reminded her, reaching out to tuck a strand of flame hair behind her ears. "If you go and get ready, I can come and read you a story."</p><p>"Thank you, Papa." She scrambled to her feet, embracing him momentarily before she skipped away, humming to herself. He let her go and get ready, checking in on Alex and Scott, and then using the pulley system he had designed to go along to Jean's room and read to her. She practiced her telepathy as he read, making his words into mental paintings that she shared with him. It wasn't long until she was falling asleep, and he carefully tucked her blankets around her and headed back to his study. He jotted down a note of thanks to Logan to go out in the morning mail, and then went to see how Alex was.</p><p><i>Is everything well?</i> Charles asked, pausing outside what would now be Scott's room, able to sense that his brother's mind was inside.</p><p><i>He's lost a lot of weight,</i> Alex admitted. <i>And the bruising is quite bad, but... we can help him, right?</i></p><p><i>I don't see why not. You've proven invaluable in helping other people in need. Your brother needs a few warm meals, and a lot of reassurance. Both of which he has here in abundance. I don't know yet whether there is anything I will be able to do to aid his condition, but hopefully a sense of security will be some comfort to him,</i> Charles reasoned, going to the kitchen to help himself to some of the food he knew Alex would have left. </p><p>His household desperately needed more staff, but he knew he would have to find people he could trust around his children. They were vulnerable, and the outside world had hurt them already. He refused to allow that to continue, to permit any danger to come inside his walls.</p><p>Mutants had been of interest to him ever since the voices in his mind had started, and over the years that interest had only grown stronger. But he refused to allow himself to become like Essex, experimenting brutally on the children of the poor, or Stryker growing rich from exhibiting their strangeness. He was curious, but that curiosity came second to the wellbeing of his children. </p><p>Jean, he hoped, would prove in a few years to be a marvellous young lady, able to marry and live a comparatively normal life. He wondered whether the same might even be true of Scott, given time and support. Charles believed deeply in acceptance of the gifted, those with mental abilities that marked them apart from normal humans - those who were able to read minds, or move things without touching them, or see the future, or project images. The gifted had lurked on the edge of society for a long time, but Charles believed in time they would be able to belong.</p><p>Then there were those with mutations - those whose bodies were freakish and abnormal in ways far beyond the bounds of acceptability. Those with tails or strange plantlike growths across their skin, those who were monstrous. They had been banished from society, living as less than people, regarded as almost animals. Stryker's guard might have been one, but he was one of the few who were out in public rather than exhibited or used for scientific research.</p><p>The borders between the gifted and mutants was a porous one. Abilities such as Alex's and Scott's were considered mutations in the law, but those who saw them when they were not using their abilities would not hesitate to classify them as true humans. There were even days when Charles hoped that in a few generations, mutants would be accepted. But that was a fight for another day. What mattered for tonight was the fact that Alex's brother was home, and that Stryker had been thwarted. He had caught glimpses in Stryker's mind of some of those used in his act, and Charles would have to arrange a meeting with Logan to discuss that, to see what could be done to help them. </p><p>Logan was another individual whose existence rested in the porous border between gifted and mutant - his animalistic senses and claws were clearly a mutation, and he had suffered for it. But at first glance he appeared human enough. That ability to move between the two worlds had proven invaluable for him and shown him to be a worthy ally for Charles. He knew he could trust Logan, who could move in places that Charles despite all his wealth could not. Reluctantly, Charles unsealed his letter to Logan, requesting a meeting when it was convenient for the other man. </p><p>Charles felt Alex's mind approaching him.</p><p>He smoothed down his hair, trying to ensure he looked as though he was in complete control and utterly confident in what he was doing. Such an impression was a slight exaggeration of the truth, but it was one that he knew brought comfort to the older boy. <i>Come in, Alex.</i></p><p>Alex peeked around the door before walking in and sitting in the chair opposite Charles. His eyes were red, and it was clear he had been crying. </p><p>"Is there something wrong?"</p><p>"You got him home. I never... I know you said you'd try, but..." Unspoken went the fact that Alex didn't trust anyone. That he thought Charles had said it as an empty promise, the same way that Essex had baited him with rumours of kindness if he would just cooperate. </p><p>"I knew he needed to come home." Charles kept his voice gentle, able to see how much Alex was still adjusting to his brother's presence. "And I will ensure that he does well, I promise you."</p><p>"Thank you." Alex's smile was broad, cocky almost. There was a joy to it that confirmed to Charles he was doing the right thing, as he tried to balance out the correct path, aiming to help those who were most in need without causing too much disruption - to draw the eye of too many could cost them all dearly. Charles looked at the older boy fondly. </p><p>"Go and rest, Alex. Scott needs you. If he wakes up, feed him some soup, but hopefully he will sleep through tonight. He is in desperate need of some rest."</p><p>Alex nodded and hurried away, and Charles clung to an easy victory. He had done the right thing and helped reunite a family.</p><p>He slipped a notebook from a hidden compartment in his desk, beginning to record his observations so far about Scott, and about what he had seen in Stryker's mind. Some of the images were chilling. It was almost three years since Logan and the rest had been able to escape. They had become established under their own right, with Charles providing the backing the circus desperately needed. But losing his prisoners hadn't stopped Stryker from aiming to rebuild, keeping them at a distance.</p><p>Logan had tried to stop him, of course. But he had never found him. Charles suspected it was one of those in the circus themselves who was keeping Stryker hidden from unfriendly eyes. And so Stryker had fallen down Charles's list of priorities, his attention shifting to those who were gaining power, those who were making their name in the blood of mutants. Men like Essex. According to most people, men like him. </p><p>Charles finished his note taking, tucking the blanket closer around his legs and then pushing himself to his bedroom, a faint sense of nausea clinging to his skin. He was painfully aware of the fact many people would class him as the same as Essex, a scientist driven by interest in mutation. Worse, perhaps, because he was wealthy enough that any research he carried out was done simply because of his own curiosity.</p><p>Yet he could feel Scott's mind, and Jean's, and Alex's and Darwin's. The collection of mutant children he had surrounded himself with, given another chance. He would speak to Logan about what he had learned, and then put that knowledge to one side and work on what was under his control. It was his only choice.</p><p>He headed to bed, trying to block out the memories of what he had glimpsed. He wouldn't be able to solve it. Either Logan would or wouldn't, but lingering on those thoughts now would only bring Charles pain. He pushed the images aside, concentrating on soothing away a nightmare that was brewing in Scott's mind.</p><p>***</p><p>Jean woke up slowly, curled up beneath her blankets, and concentrated on lifting another log onto the fire. The effort left her breathless, but she smiled because she knew her ability was getting stronger every day. She couldn't wait to find out what it was that she would be capable of in time. Papa said he thought she would be incredible.</p><p>It didn't take long for the new wood to make the fire grow, but while she was waiting she skimmed a morning greeting through the minds of those around her. Papa was awake in his study, expecting a visitor. Alex and Darwin were in the kitchen making breakfast, and their minds were full of warmth and affection. And there was another mind, a new mind.</p><p>She slipped out from beneath the blanket, pulling on her bed jacket and then padding barefoot to the room beside Alex's. She knew that whoever was there wouldn't be dangerous - Papa wouldn't allow anyone who was dangerous into their house. Anyway, the mind felt like a child. She knocked on the door, her feet cold on the tiles.</p><p>"Hello?" came a child's voice from inside - she thought they sounded like a boy. She reached out and opened the door, stepping inside. There was a boy there. He was very skinny, and he had a blindfold across his face. Jean knew that sometimes, Papa had to help mutants who had been hurt, but normally they were older than this boy. Her role was to help them, to make friends with them and stop them feeling so lonely. Papa said that was a very important job, because sometimes the mutants hadn't had anyone be nice to them for a really long time. She liked being their friend, and helping them to feel better until they left with uncle Logan or someone else.</p><p>"Hello, my name's Jean," Jean introduced herself as she walked over to him, taking the boy's hand and squeezing gently. "What's your name?"</p><p>"Scott," the boy answered, keeping his head ducked down. She could see someone had been very cruel to him. He looked so frightened, and he had bruises, and she wanted to wrap him up in a big hug and take away all the hurt, but she knew that might frighten him, so instead she just held his hand and tried to comfort him that way.</p><p>"Hello, Scott. You're safe now."</p><p>"I know. Alex said," the boy answered. "He's my big brother."</p><p>"Oh, okay." Jean grinned, because Alex was very nice and that probably meant Scott would be really nice as well. "Well, he's making breakfast at the moment, so do you want to come and have a look around with me?"</p><p>"I can't see."</p><p>"That's okay! I can tell you. And Papa's been teaching me how to show people pictures in my mind, so I can show you things." Jean smiled wider, even if the boy couldn't see, because he might be able to hear that she was smiling, and she grabbed his hand, taking him along the corridor and projecting images to him. "So this is Alex's room. And this is Darwin's room, and here's the nursery, and then here is my room, and then here are guest bedrooms - there are more upstairs. And this is a room we're not allowed in, and then this is Papa's bedroom-" She kept up a constant listing as she walked. </p><p>"Why aren't we allowed in there?" Scott asked, his head tilted to one side like a puppy-dog. </p><p>"Oh, because that used to be Papa's brother's room, and he doesn't like him. So the door is kept locked... We can go to the library!" Jean pulled his hand, dragging him along, and then frowned. "I know you can't see, but I can read you stories! Papa reads me bedtime stories every night."</p><p>Scott was quiet, so she squeezed his hand again. </p><p>"Do you have a Papa?"</p><p>Scott shook his head, and Jean hugged him tightly because he looked sad.</p><p>"That's alright," she promised. "You have Alex, and I'll be your friend, and I'm sure Papa can read you a story if you'd like." </p><p>Scott smiled, and she began to show him around the rest of the mansion, until she felt Papa give her a soft prod in her mind. </p><p>
  <i>Breakfast time, Jean. You can finish showing Scott around later.</i>
</p><p><i>Yes, Papa.</i> She helped Scott carefully down the stairs and to the kitchen, telling him about the different birds that were on the wallpaper. Her Papa looked quite tired, or maybe sad, but he smiled to see the two of them.</p><p>"Is everything alright, Papa?"</p><p>"It's good, Jean. There's nothing for you to worry about. Now, eat your breakfast..." </p><p>Jean rushed to her seat, leaving Scott standing there helplessly. She felt guilty, but before she could fix it, Alex had gone to help Scott find his seat. She passed him the marmalade first, to make up for it. Her Papa was looking across at them, but his eyes were a little unfocussed, so she thought he was probably trying to talk to someone who wasn't there right then. After a few moments he smiled. "Logan will be joining us for dinner tonight."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you! Please comment if you've enjoyed, comments mean so much to me!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning for non-detailed mentions of past child abuse in this chapter (and throughout this fic).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan had never pictured himself as a leader, let along a ringmaster. It simply hadn't been of any interest to him - he'd considered himself to be a lone wolf, more animal than human. Certainly not the kind of man who would take charge. He had assumed he would always be alone, or else caged and tortured, driven by impotent hatred and anger.</p><p>Of course, the universe always had a way of finding humour in the world. Just when he had given up, he had found himself in a situation where he'd been able to change things, reshape the path his life was on - fix things. And once things were fixed, well, he could have left them. Could have simply accepted that he had solved everything and that the pain was over, slipped back into human society and left behind those strangers who wouldn't ever be able to fit there, left them to scrabble in the dust for crumbs.</p><p>He hadn't been able to do it. He couldn't turn his back, not on the people who had always shown him kindness. Life had been hard, before. He'd been beaten and starved, tormented, caged. But there had been moments of tenderness. Mutants like him with almost nothing, who still found a way to bring him the food he needed, to treat his injuries. And then one day he'd found a way to break free, when one of their number had escaped.</p><p>His memories of that night were blurry at best, as he had given in to the rage that had consumed him, tearing apart everything in his way, ripping apart the chains and the captors, slashing flesh to ribbons... and yet his only regret was that that night, the worst of his tormentors had been absent. Stryker had been elsewhere, and he'd taken the bastard Creed with him. Years of fantasizing about gutting them on his claws had come to nought. But he'd found something beyond hatred to drive him on. Because those he had freed had nowhere to go, no home or family other than the circus. And Logan had taken it upon himself to help them. To lead them.</p><p>And over time he'd found support. Hank, who had been treated as no more than an animal, but was a good friend and far more intelligent than anyone else there, whose companionship was the one thing that calmed him when all else seemed lost. Azazel, who had a dark sense of humour to match his devilish appearance, but whose skills could often be invaluable. He'd met Chuck, who was smart and sophisticated and everything he wasn't, but with a sense of clarity and purpose that marked him out. And he'd got Laura, his beautiful little girl. She was five years old, and a ray of sunshine far brighter than he had ever deserved to witness.</p><p>Now, his life was a success, for a mutant at least. He lived with friends and family, and they were comfortable, their money coming from humans desperate to gawp at the strangeness in their midst. Compared to what life had been like under Stryker, this was idyllic. Anyone caused them trouble now, Logan wouldn't hesitate to fight back.</p><p>He patrolled the edge of their camp, searching for any sign of danger. He knew that they were able to defend themselves, but old habits died hard and he knew any mistake could lead to him once again ending up a prisoner. Such thoughts weren't worth lingering on. He shuddered, when he heard the loud burst of noise that marked Azazel's arrival.</p><p>Azazel would usually go and visit Chuck first thing, to pass along any messages. Given the man could never show his face in public, Logan approved of him finding something he could do, and Chuck's house was as open to mutants as any.</p><p>"He wants to see you," Azazel stated bluntly. "And he gave me this - he says he had meeting with Stryker yesterday."</p><p>Logan refused to shiver in response to that name. He took the letter Azazel held out, skimming through it - an update on what Stryker had been up to, with more detail promised that evening if Logan could grace him with his presence. "Tell him I will attend. Thank you, Azazel."</p><p>The man disappeared in a puff of smoke, and Logan stared at the missive. Nothing that detailed - but if Chuck was reaching out to him for help, that implied something was wrong. He and Chuck were close, but generally Chuck was more than willing to leave mentions of Stryker from their conversation. They focused on other things, on their friendship and how the children were progressing in their studies. Stryker was a bad memory, best left dead. </p><p>It unsettled him, and that mood lingered as he completed his patrol around the edge of the camp, before he returned to the caravan he shared with his lover and his daughter. He sniffed the air, clambering inside, careful to avoid the floorboards which creaked and might disturb Laura's slumber.</p><p>As he approached her bed, her eyes flickered open, and she held out her arms. He leaned down and embraced her, picking her up easily, carrying her over to the bed where Hank still slept. Laura giggled, and he put aside his fears - Laura had no memory of her time with Stryker, and many of the mutants who lived among them had joined once they were free. Past nightmares didn't get to disturb the life he had made for himself.</p><p>He rubbed his hand over the blue fur on Hank's arm, reminding himself that the other man was real, that he was with him. He would visit Chuck for dinner, but first he had a day of running the circus. They were holding a lunchtime performance, and he wanted to ensure everything went smoothly.</p><p>***</p><p>Standing up on the stage, speaking to the humans that hung on his every word, felt a lifetime away from cowering in the dirt, his body curled up and almost-naked as humans stared through the bars of his cage. There, he had been less than an animal. Now, he felt almost above those who sat on crowded benches with wide eyes.</p><p>They weren't afraid of his kind, not within this space where they felt in control. But they spent their money for a glimpse of the life Logan lived every day, and he knew where the power was - he was confident enough in what he was doing to allow his daughter to join in the show.</p><p>Laura had no memory of what it had been like before, when she had first entered the world. She knew only the excitement of performing, of playing with her friends and being happy, and Logan hoped that would continue. Laura might have been able to pass for human, but he didn't want that for her.</p><p>There was a lot about his past that Logan couldn't truly recall, and he didn't want Laura to ever know that emptiness. He wanted her to be certain of who she was.</p><p>As he watched his daughter flipping around the stage with the ease of one who was born for this, he felt pride swell inside of him. She was doing well. Her eye caught his, and he grinned at her, and she smiled back.</p><p>Hank stepped onto the stage, and Logan felt a faint pinch of amusement, watching his partner play the role of the monster when he was anything but. He knew the humans wanted to be scared, to be thrilled, and Hank could give them that, but it was in no way a sign of who he was. Still, he roared with the best, and the humans watched in awe and wonder.</p><p>Eventually, the performance finished, and Laura helped him lead the bows, a wide smile on her face. Azazel went to help ensure everyone left, knowing that the humans would often want another glimpse through the veil at mutants, and that Azazel could provide that.</p><p>Hank's arms wrapped around Logan's waist, his head resting heavily on his shoulder. "You did well today," Hank praised, and Logan luxuriated in his kindness. At first, taking to the stage had felt wrong, unnatural, a reminder of what he had endured before. Now he rather liked it - knowing everyone stared, knowing the power they had. Sharing that experience with his family helped.</p><p>"So did you. And Laura," Logan encouraged, because he knew Hank still worried at seeing their child taking part. Hank's hands rubbed against his shoulders, easing tension that lingered after every show. Logan groaned softly, leaning back. "I'll miss you at dinner. Charles allows mutants."</p><p>"And I'd rather not go. Anyway, one of us needs to look after Laura," Hank reasoned, and even though it hurt, Logan accepted it, because he knew how self-conscious Hank felt about his appearance, knew the stares he always drew. Regardless of how hard he tried to conceal it, Hank's mutation was obvious, and humans would never let him forget it.</p><p>Logan leaned against him a moment longer, then stood up and stretched. "I'll check how the others are." Logan's hand squeezed his just for a moment, a silent reassurance, and then he pulled away. As a general rule he liked seeing Chuck but he wasn't naive enough to think there was no ulterior motive to him wanting to meet up. The question was what had happened and how serious it was.</p><p>He put that worry aside for later, checking in on the others, and lost a happy hour to helping Glob Herman round up all of the chickens that had somehow escaped their coop. He couldn't help the vague sense of pride he felt at the way Glob had settled in with the rest - the young man's skin was a strange waxy material, allowing glimpses of his insides. He'd suffered through being used for experiments, prior to coming here, and now he had a home. Logan couldn't help smiling when he saw how well Glob had settled, how he had come to regard this place as his home - as it should be. There were so many mutants out there who were lost, or alone. Subject to unreasoning cruelties.</p><p>His circus stood as a beacon to them. Somewhere mutants could be free, could be happy. When the last chicken had been tracked down (perched up in Angel's tent, much to the young woman's distress), Logan returned to find his daughter and Hank sat together, a book between them.</p><p>He grinned at that. He could read and write - not well, but enough. Hank, however, had a scholar's heart. In a fair world, he would have been able to go to the finest of universities, earn the admiration of all those around him, written books that would have reshaped the nature of science. As it was, in this world he was stuck here, the blue fur growing out of his skin limiting his options, but meaning he and Logan were together. Comfortable. Happy. </p><p>Hank had brought it upon himself to ensure any member of the circus who wished it could at least gain the basics of an education. There were several who had taken him up on that offer, used to being treated as little more than animals. And then there was the love with which he tried to educate Laura, despite her cries of protest and small tantrums. She was a wild child, happiest when swinging from a tree or crawling through mud, but Logan understood what an education meant to Hank. What it meant in terms of her possibilities, for a future life free of the circus. He would be sad to see her go, but he understood the value of options. With that understanding, he pressed a gentle kiss to Hank's cheek and Laura's forehead, and went to  make himself presentable for visiting Chuck.</p><p>"Can I come, Logan?" Laura asked, attempting to wriggle away from Hank. Logan shook his head, signalling for her to continue with her lessons. </p><p>"No, Charles is a cultured gentleman. He only speaks to nice, respectable, well educated people who do their classes. Not feral brats."</p><p>"But Logan..." Laura whined, knowing it was a lost cause and yet not willing to admit defeat.</p><p>"If you study, I'll spar with you later?" Logan offered, and Laura nodded enthusiastically, her attention returning to the book. She was so engrossed in the pages that she missed the look that Logan and Hank exchanged over her head, Hank mouthing thanks to Logan. Logan winked, going to change into a suit. The jacket was uncomfortable, and the tie reminded him too much of being trapped, a heavy weight at his throat, but he knew it was temporary and worthwhile. </p><p>Once he was dressed up like the kind of man he wasn't, he sat down with Laura, listening to her and Hank reading. She was getting good at it. He embraced them both before making his way to Azazel's caravan. He knocked on the wood, then pushed it open, finding the man sat writing at his desk. Azazel kept a lot of notes, although Logan had no idea what they said - the writing was a foreign alphabet with harsher lines than his own.</p><p>"Az, can you take me to Chuck's place this evening? Even better if you can hang out until I'm ready to come back."</p><p>"Why would I do that?" Azazel asked curiously, his tail flicking. It would have been easy to see that as a threat, but Logan had known the other man for long enough to realise he was just seeing what he could get, testing the boundaries - the same way Laura did.</p><p>"I'm happy to pay you for your work Azazel, you know that."</p><p>"Alright." The man finished the line he was writing before standing up and walking over. "You're not tempted to get one of the fliers to take you?"</p><p>"You're fast, and you're the best at this," Logan reassured, knowing how to appeal to the man's pride. It worked - a moment later the world around them faded into a burst of smoke.</p><p>"Here. Try not to get in trouble. I will wait for you."</p><p>"Thank you, Azazel," Logan praised as the world once more became solid.</p><p>Chuck's house took some getting used to. For years Logan's world had been limited - either to a cage, or else to the caravan he shared with his lover and daughter. That caravan would have fitted in some of the closets of Chuck's mansion.</p><p>Logan always felt a bit out of place, walking up to the front door. Like the building itself was judging him. He pushed that aside - Chuck wasn't, and Chuck was what mattered.</p><p>He knocked, then grinned when it was Alex who greeted him - Alex was a good kid, who wasn't exactly suitable for the circus or normal life. But he seemed happy enough staying with Chuck. </p><p>"Hey," Logan greeted, surprised to see there was a young blindfolded boy clutching tight to Alex's hand. "Who is this?" He sniffed the air. There was something there, a familiar scent that rankled. The boy flinched, backing up closer to Alex.</p><p>"This is Scott, my baby brother," Alex answered. "Charles is in his study, but I am sure he'll be down to greet you soon."</p><p>"Thanks." Logan walked inside, tempted to kick off his dirty shoes before he stained the pristine floors of this place. He knew that Chuck liked living here, but everything about it felt wrong to him. Still, he smiled because he knew he was among friends. And that was what mattered.</p><p>Logan had lived a long life. And what he had learned over that time was that you could find true allies in the gutter easier than in a palace, but that there were good people everywhere. There were monsters too, easy to find. But the good men and women out there were the ones you had to look for, whether they were to be found in wealth or poverty. And Chuck was one of the good ones.</p><p>"Thank you, old friend." Chuck wheeled into view, elegantly dressed. Logan took a moment to look at him, at the thinness of his legs and the way he had to push himself along. Among many people, such an appearance would have looked like weakness. Chuck though - Chuck looked like he was sat on a throne, awaiting the attention of everyone around them. You couldn't overlook him. He always carried himself with a sense that he was the most powerful and important person in the room - and Logan knew that most of the time, Chuck was.</p><p>"So, you gonna tell me what you called me for?"</p><p>"We can worry about that later," Chuck reassured, his thoughts brushing against Logan's. <i>You're not going to like it, but I need your help.</i></p><p><i>You know you can count on me,</i> Logan replied, and Chuck nodded.</p><p>"Jean was excited you might tell her more stories from the circus?"</p><p>"Gladly. You should bring her along one day, Scott too," Logan encouraged, amused by the way Chuck frowned, as though certain he was in some way above such things. He wanted to encourage him to have fun, to relax - and to shrug off the perfect image he always projected, But so far, he'd had no success. Chuck was happy to give them money, to encourage their success and support them, but he wasn't going to attend.</p><p>"Perhaps. Shall we head to the dining room?" Chuck asked, leading the way. What followed was what Logan could recognise as a carefully constructed performance, talking to the children, telling them about the circus and the adventures they'd been on. The children listened with wide-eyed wonder, and Logan felt himself relax into the role of the storyteller. It was a show, and he knew how to do that. But eventually, the meal was finished, and Darwin and Alex ushered the children to bed, leaving him and Chuck alone.</p><p>Logan groaned softly, leaning back in his chair and looking over at Chuck. "Now you gonna tell me what this whole masquerade was about?"</p><p>"I need your help." Chuck admitted, moving back from the table. "Come to my study. It's more comfortable and we won't be disturbed there." With that, Chuck led the way, and Logan followed close behind.</p><p>"This about that Scott-kid?" Logan asked, as soon as he was settled in a comfortable chair near the fire, Chuck sat close by, leaning forwards with his elbows on his thighs.</p><p>"Yes, it is."</p><p>"You get him from Stryker?" Logan asked, because the stench of Creed on him was unmistakable.</p><p>"Luckily not. The man who had been experimenting on him decided to sell him on. I was able to persuade him that I would be a better choice than Stryker."</p><p>"Good." Logan snorted, not wanting to think about what could have happened to the boy had Creed got his hands on him. "So, again, what the hell is this about?"</p><p>"Whilst we were in the meeting, I thought I would take a look at Stryker's mind. He is definitely still angry at you for what happened between you-" </p><p>"You mean the fact I killed a bunch of his men and escaped with what he considered his property? Because I ain't about to apologise for that, bub."</p><p>"I wouldn't dream of asking you to," Charles answered calmly, a magnanimous smile on his face. "I just thought that you should know that he hasn't forgotten you." </p><p>Logan resisted the urge to pop his claws. "Yeah, I'm kinda memorable. So you came here to warn me? Because the people I've got at the circus - we can look out for ourselves. I appreciate your support Chuck, but I don't need you to keep me safe from the monsters in my closet." Logan could feel himself getting angry, thinking of Stryker and Creed, the way they seemed to delight in torturing mutants. </p><p>"No. I didn't, Logan. I know you are far more competent than you give yourself credit for." Charles's voice was even and calm, but there was a hint of pain in his eyes, and he was frowning a little. "I had a concern, and so I went to you as the best person to solve the problem I had discovered."</p><p>"What's the concern?"</p><p>"Stryker has a number of mutants he is currently exhibiting. I plan to try and persuade him to hand them over, or at least be more careful, improve their quality of life-" Chuck explained, utterly calm as he spoke about allowing mutants to be tortured for the public's delight.</p><p>Logan couldn't hide the low growl that slipped out, and Charles gave him a warning look before continuing.</p><p>"I'm working on it. But I need time. And looking at his memories, there's a mutant there who doesn't have time - he's been hurt. Brutalized. And Stryker's grown tired of him and thinks he's going to die soon, so rather than lose all the money in him, he's intending to see if he can sell him to a fighting ring. The state that mutant is in, he'll be torn apart."</p><p>Logan understood. Fighting rings weren't necessarily bad - he'd ended up in one before, and with a strong healing factor and a penchant for violence he'd felt right at home.  But for a mutant without the ability to heal, and already weakened - it would lead to him being torn apart by the baying crowds. </p><p>"You want me to get him out?"</p><p>Chuck nodded, and an image formed behind Logan's eyelids, searing itself into place and  making him want to be sick. Chuck's focus was on the way that the youth was painfully thin, sores visible at his wrists and peeking beneath the power-restraining collar, the bruised eye and the way he was cowering, his tail wrapped around himself. But Logan didn't focus on that, didn't even focus on the blue skin of the other mutant. What drew his eyes were the long scratches visible down the mutant's chest and arms, the kind that Logan recognised, the scrape of fingernails twisted into claws. Running alongside them were intricate patterns, scars raised on the boy's flesh. He shuddered, picturing the smirk that settled on his brother's face as he cut someone open.</p><p>"Poor bastard," Logan breathed, feeling sickness bubble inside of him. He wanted to save the poor kid, but there was a problem. "I go anywhere near that boy, Creed's gonna smell me coming." He paused. "You've got other spies, I know you do. Send one of them."</p><p>"I can't," Chuck said, and Logan could see the pain in his expression - Chuck cared so much more than he ever let on, and abandoning someone to suffering caused him pain. "I can't ask them, because Creed would catch them and tear them apart. You... I wasn't sure if you knew anyone who could... if not, I'll let you know when he's being transferred. The timings will be tight-"</p><p>"I'll see what I can do," Logan muttered, already running through the mutants he knew - Azazel was fast, but he couldn't hold his own in a fight against Creed. Very few could. Logan could battle him to a standstill, but he couldn't win. Creed was just too vicious, too violent - as that kid had clearly learned. Poor damn bastard. Too weird looking to ever be accepted, but pretty enough to make a good target for Creed's violence.</p><p>He couldn't help thinking of Hank, of the similarity in colour in the face and eyes. He felt... sick. Wondering if this was somehow Creed taking revenge on him, if it was a sign he wasn't as different from his brother as he liked to think. He pushed those thoughts down. He could worry about the truth of that, if he and his brother shared the same bad blood, polluting their veins and leaving filth in its wake, after the boy was safe. </p><p>"I am sorry to ask this of you Logan, but-"</p><p>"Why don't you just make him hand them over?" Logan demanded. It was an old argument, but one that he stuck to stubbornly - he had to believe that there was more Chuck could do than what he did. He glared at him. If he had powers like Chuck's, he'd make sure that bastards like Creed and Stryker got what was coming to them.</p><p>"Because in the long term, it would turn society against the gifted as well. I've hidden my gift. To show it so publicly, so violently - there's no way I can kill Creed, it probably wouldn't even work on him, given that my abilities are limited on the effect they have on you. So I'd throw away all the respect I have built up, and dozens of young mutants will suffer unnecessarily."</p><p>Sometimes, Logan hated how Chuck thought. But he got it - he was doing what he could to keep them safe, the same way all of them were. Just because his way of dealing with hell was to go in with his claws out and fight whatever stood in his way didn't mean that Chuck could do the same.</p><p>"Yeah. I know a few people."</p><p>"Thank you, Logan. I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't necessary."</p><p>And the worst part of it was that was the truth - Chuck was doing it because he thought that it needed to be done, not because he wanted to or was trying to dredge up bad memories. Anyone who had seen that youth could tell that he needed to be saved, and with Chuck unable to fight himself, it came down to those he could count on to do it.</p><p>"I'll see myself out," Logan muttered. He was angry, knowing Chuck was manipulating him, using him to get what he wanted - and at the same time he understood, because the kid needed to be saved, and this was the best way to do it. "Do you know when he's getting rid of him?"</p><p>"As soon as he can. He's worried the boy's got a fever."</p><p>Logan wanted to snarl, to gut Creed and Stryker and all of it. He turned and walked out, knowing Chuck would give him the details when he was ready for them, and that right now he didn't want to deal with any of that, didn't want to think about the practicalities. </p><p>Azazel was waiting, leaning against a tree and gazing up at the sky. He stood straight as Logan approached, his eyes searching over his face, none of his normal joviality there. He just stared with his cold blue eyes. Whatever it was he found there, it made him come to a decision. "Where are we going?"</p><p>Logan knew a few people who might be able to help. Callisto, a woman he had a degree of respect for and was from a fighting ring herself. Japeth, who was a kind guy despite his appearance, and whose slugs could get anywhere. Gambit, who had split from him when he'd escaped Stryker but was a damn good thief. He'd have called any one of them for help with Stryker, without hesitation. They could easily just grab the boy, or else slit the bastard's throat and the world would be better for it.</p><p>But he knew he also had to ensure that they would be able to target Creed. Manage to hold their own against an unkillable monster. And he couldn't see that working out well. Creed was too savage, and almost immune to pain, happy to keep fighting even when he was bloody from injury, cut open by the sharp claws Logan held. He seemed to enjoy it. He could go - but he would end up fighting Creed, and the boy would likely just be collateral damage. </p><p>In the end, there was really only one person he thought had a chance to get the boy out of there alive. A mutant he'd known once and met several times since, but who he disagreed with - one who hated humans with far more ferocity than he cared for mutants. But, in the end, their goals overlapped. He couldn't imagine the man standing by the way Chuck did while a child was injured. </p><p>With a shrug, he looked Azazel in the eye. "I need to find Magneto."</p><p>Azazel didn't hesitate. That was a good thing about the other man - whatever he thought, he knew that when Logan had come to a decision about something like this, it fell on him to bring it to fruition. He stepped forwards, gripping Logan, and his world dissolved into smoke.</p><p>***</p><p>Erik was sat reading over the day's newspaper, searching for any signs of mutant exploitation. He'd seen a lot in the few years since he had found his freedom, learned how humans were always eager to trade in mutant flesh. So he freed those he could, and had slaughtered some of the monsters behind them, learning so that one day he would hunt down the bastard who had harmed his own past. </p><p>The candlelight flickered as he turned the page, and a moth flapped around the flame, entranced. Before he could raise his permanently twisted hand to shoo it away, it disappeared, and he heard Toynbee crunching from the other side of the room, perched comfortably against the ceiling.</p><p>Erik snorted his amusement, glancing over at the mutant who was currently his companion - a young man who would never be accepted by the humans on account of his pallor and strange abilities. Toynbee had been rescued from a lab, but whilst the other mutants there had headed back to families or to try their luck elsewhere, Toynbee had stayed. Which meant that for now, he was Erik's problem.</p><p>"Thank you, Mortimer," he called out, earning a grin from the boy. It hurt, the way the boy was so damn surprised to have any kind words tossed his way. He'd been abandoned at birth, and known only abuse since. Erik was glad he could start to make a difference, even if Toynbee couldn't stay with him.</p><p>The boy hopped down, standing in front of Erik's chair. "Been thinkin'. You should keep me with you, not get me t' tha' other guy."</p><p>"Logan will be good for you," Erik reassured him. There were few people in the world whom Erik trusted, and fewer still he considered to be good. But Logan was one of the good ones, had proved it to Erik when he was far younger than Toynbee was. They weren't as close now, differences driving them apart, but in an emergency Erik always trusted Logan to have his back. "You'll have a future there Mortimer. You'll have employment, and be among friends." </p><p>"Don't get friends." The kid shrugged, his confidence fading, curling in on himself. There was a fragment of moth-wing stuck to his lip. "People hate me. They're gonna hurt me."</p><p>Erik stood up, walking over to rest his good hand on the boy's shoulder. "Mortimer, I am not going to allow anyone to harm you."</p><p>"Y' abandonin' me. Just like everyone else." The kid frowned.</p><p>"I'll check on you. I see Logan every few weeks, and I'll check on you. You can't stay here."</p><p>"Why not?" The boy glared, crossing his arms.</p><p>"Because I want you to be happy. I'm not a good man, Mortimer."</p><p>"Yer the best I've known," Toynbee answered, and Erik squeezed his shoulder for a moment.</p><p>"Perhaps that's a sign you deserve to meet some better people," Erik suggested, and after a few moments the boy seemed to relax, the fight leaving him. Erik tilted Toynbee's head up towards him. "You have any problems at all, you tell me when I visit, and I'll fix them."</p><p>There was a moment when he thought the kid was going to pull away, but then he stepped forwards into an embrace. Toynbee's skin was vaguely damp, but he clutched at Erik tightly, and Erik returned the hold just as tight, stroking one hand through his hair. He hated how the humans had hurt this youth, made him feel like he was wrong, simply because of how he looked. </p><p>A moment later and the boy was bouncing back up into his corner, surveying the room.</p><p>Erik heard a loud crack in the room beyond, signalling for Toynbee to stay where he was as he stood up, using his hand to open the door, before his metal sense registered Logan's presence.</p><p>Logan walked in, sniffing the air and tilting his head to one side. "You got company?"</p><p>"Got another kid for your show," Erik agreed, waving Toynbee down from his perch. "This is Mortimer Toynbee. He was in a lab." Shared history passed between him and Logan in silence.</p><p>"Good to meet you, kid." Logan offered his hand, and for a moment it looked like Toynbee would refuse. But the kid wiped his hand on his trouser leg before holding it out to him. "We'd be glad to have you."</p><p>The boy shrugged, ducking back up to his corner, and Erik sighed a little. He knew Logan was good with kids that were a mess, and that was why they teamed up. Still - he hadn't requested Logan come here yet, which meant that he had his own motivations. </p><p>"What do you want, Logan?"</p><p>"Got a job for you. Mutie kid getting tortured, going to be sent to a fighting ring, need someone to do an extraction. My friend Chuck, a telepath, says the kid's chained up good - so you're our best bet at getting him out."</p><p>Erik hated thinking of mutant children suffering. "Can I kill the men who are doing this?" he asked, and ignored the way Toynbee looked a little pale at the thought.</p><p>"I wouldn't recommend it. The guy running the place has got his own pet mutant, and the guy's healing factor's like mine. Victor Creed, you might remember him. You're best off just getting the damn kid out, grab any information you can," Logan answered, then sighed. "I can look after him once he's safe. But if I go anywhere near it, that mutant's gonna smell me, and he's gonna make things a lot worse."</p><p>Erik nodded. "I'll go." There was no question about it - if a mutant, especially a child, needed rescuing then he would be the one to do it. When he'd been younger, Logan had kept him safe, and now Erik could pass that on to a new generation of mutants who needed to be protected.</p><p>A look of relief passed over Logan's face at that offer, but Erik didn't let himself linger on that, wanting to know all he could about the logistics of the potential retrieval. There was a mutant child who needed help. His own safety came second, but if he died that would mean others didn't get the help they needed. By midnight, he felt he knew all he would need to make an extraction the next day. He thanked Logan for what he had said, and called Toynbee down from the ceiling. "Look, when I get him, I'm going to bring him to the circus. You can keep an eye on him for me, right?"</p><p>"Yeah, sure, if tha's wha' you want."</p><p>"I think you'd be good for him, Mortimer. I think you would be a wonderful friend, and it looks like that boy needs friends."</p><p>"Yer trustin' me?"</p><p>"I'm trusting you," he reiterated, stroking the boy's hair back from his eyes. "The world doesn't show mutants who look like you much kindness. But I know that you've got the potential to show a tenderness to those in need you never got yourself."</p><p>Mortimer nodded, his skin taking on a vaguely green blush, and Logan turned to him.</p><p>"Good job. You ready, kid?"</p><p>"I guess.... Bye Mister Erik..." Toynbee stood up straight, and walked over to Logan, a shy smile on his face. Erik watched until he was gone, then stared down at the notes he had made. He read over everything, then went to bed, knowing he'd need to be rested for the following day.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please do comment if you are enjoying it - comments always make me smile, and I feel we all need some brightness right now.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for all the support, especially to InsertSthMeaningful for betaing! Warnings in this chapter for non-graphic mentions of abuse and injury to a teenager.</p>
<p>Got some beautiful art for this fic from <a href="https://0akdown.tumblr.com/post/633947543882072064/the-lovely-flightinflame-commissioned-me-to-draw-a"> 0akdown on tumblr</a> - Erik hugging Mortimer.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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<p>Erik hated scientists. Those who tried to control mutants, to shape them in their own image, or use them as tools. Over his life he'd known many scientists - those who wanted to control mutants, who wanted to cure them or exterminate them. He'd met humans of all of those types, and he hated each and every one. That anger settled in his chest, warming him with determination and the pure hot fire of vengeance.</p>
<p>If it was up to him, every human who thought they had a right to hurt mutant-kind would suffer for it. Unfortunately, that wasn't his call to make. Still, he got revenge where he could, and he slept easier knowing that the monsters which had tormented Toynbee and others were removed from the earth. Logan might not have believed in murdering humans, but Erik took it as his birthright. If humans wanted to say that mutants were monsters, well, he was glad to be a monster.</p>
<p>From what Logan had told him, the mutant he might run into today was a monster, as he worked to rescue a mutant that humans thought looked like one. It wasn't easy to decide not to kill the human tormentor, but he trusted Logan's judgement. Logan sounded fairly certain that the boy's best chance lay in Erik getting in and getting out without being spotted. Erik couldn't let the boy get sent to certain death. It wasn't right, and from what Logan had said, if they didn't act fast the kid wouldn't last long enough for a second attempt. So Erik shelved his pride and got on with doing what needed to be done. He was determined to be better than the humans, and sometimes that meant a compromise. Maybe Toynbee had made him soft.</p>
<p>His hand ached a little, and he rubbed at it absent-mindedly, old anger bubbling in his chest. It wasn't right, how people took one look at mutants and decided they knew what was right for them, knew they were less, that they existed more than anything as a tool or a toy. Toynbee had told Erik he'd been abandoned as an infant, and then bullied in the orphanage he'd been left in. People had decided he was uneducable, and so had given up on trying to teach him - although it was quite clear that the boy could learn. He just needed gentleness, to be treated with something other than disgust.</p>
<p>Logan could offer that. Erik was sure that Logan was the best place for people like Toynbee, and the one he would rescue - and he made his money by showing off their strangeness, exposing them to more of the endless taunts which humans always seemed to draw on. It was clear Logan didn't see it as debasing, but it made Erik's skin crawl. Even so, he could recognise when it was the best for them.</p>
<p>He concentrated on the large house that he was approaching, allowing his ability to map out the world in front of him. It was easy to trace the pipework, locating a copper bath waiting by a fire, and then up, skirting his awareness around the fragments of metal that houses always held. He could go in and he could try to hunt down the human - but that wasn't what he was here for. Not tonight. The goal of today was to rescue the boy, and everything else came second to ensuring that the youth was brought to safety.</p>
<p>Beneath the house, he could feel other things, things that he didn't allow his mind to linger on, because he knew what they were, recognised the shape of objects made to hurt, made to hold someone down and cut them open.</p>
<p>Logan had warned him that Stryker wasn't just the worst kind of showman. He was also a scientist, willing to stop at nothing to get the results he wanted. Logan's own daughter was proof of that. The thought made Erik's skin itch, and sent a lance of pain through his hand that he knew was just his mind playing tricks on him. He pushed that thought aside and made his way around to the back of the building.</p>
<p>Normally, to let himself into a house like this, he would go to the servant's door and slip in that way. But with the threat of Creed looming inside the house, he thought it was probably safer to take a less conventional route. He concentrated - he could feel metal restraints, warmed by the heat of the prisoner's wrists. He was burning hot - Logan's warning about a fever was accurate. He was up on the second floor.</p>
<p>Erik placed his hands to the side, and concentrated, willing himself into the air by pushing against the ground. It wasn't an easy method, but it was one that would enable him to travel at least a short distance. He reached out, pulling himself towards the metal of the window mechanism. Once he was stable, he looked inside.</p>
<p>The room was unlit, with no one other than the youth inside, the young man curled up with his back to the door, head bowed in sleep. He had pulled a thin and ragged blanket around himself for comfort.</p>
<p>Logan had been right that the boy's appearance was definitely eye-catching - his skin was dark blue, matching his hair. Erik lifted the window with his ability, climbing inside, and made his way over.</p>
<p>He wished Logan had given him the kid's name, but apparently 'Chuck', Logan's source, didn't seem to know it. He approached carefully, not wanting to startle the boy, crouching in front of him and clearing his throat.</p>
<p>There was a pause before the boy's eyes flickered a little, but then he held himself still, his neck at an angle as though he were asleep, breathing intentionally slow. The child was trying to convince him he was still asleep. Erik could feel the iron in the boy's blood, the way his heart was racing. Reaching out to touch his arm, he could feel the heat radiating from him.</p>
<p>Logan was right, this kid wasn't well at all. His dark blue skin was covered in scars and scrapes, the nails on his fingers and toes torn too short - short enough that he wouldn't be able to fight back. Erik cleared his throat again, gently tapping the boy's arm before moving his hand away.</p>
<p>The boy's eyes flickered, and this time he did look up, catching sight of Erik and frowning before his eyes focused. He spoke softly, his voice thick with a Bavarian accent. "You should leave." The boy blinked, trying to clear his head. "He will see you. You should leave."</p>
<p>"I've come to rescue you," Erik explained, using his powers to remove the cuffs at the boy's wrists and ankles, then the one at his throat.</p>
<p>"You know you are not allowed to see me, you will get in trouble. You should go, now," the boy begged. "And why are you looking like that?"</p>
<p>Erik had no idea who the boy thought he was, but he knew he needed to get him out of there. "Come on, we're leaving." He slipped away the metal, hating the way the cuff at the ankle had bitten into the kid’s leg.</p>
<p>The boy looked at him again, his eyes damp now, unfocussed and vivid yellow. "I need... please. If you are real. He took my rosary."</p>
<p>Erik could have snorted. He'd make the boy another one if it mattered that much. He didn't have time to waste. He lifted him into his arms, horrified by how little he weighed, and took a few steps. He reached the window when the weight in his arms vanished, the boy laying panting back by the door, clearly exhausted and close to unconsciousness.</p>
<p>The brat was a teleporter, and Erik'd removed the power-inhibitor he'd been wearing. Which meant that the kid could be stubborn.</p>
<p>"You will die if I leave you here, you understand that, don't you?" Erik muttered as he made his way back over to the boy. "They're going to send you to your death if that fever doesn't take you first."</p>
<p>The boy just smiled, his expression almost calm. Erik wanted to shake him, but he wasn't sure the boy would survive that. He'd lift him again but he didn't know if the boy was strong enough to teleport again, and he didn't want to consider what would happen if he teleported poorly.</p>
<p>"Where is it?"</p>
<p>"I think... it is in the human's... office." It was clearly exhausting the boy to speak. "Down the hall. Second door on the left." He was slipping from consciousness. But if he was this determined - Erik didn't want to imagine what would happen to him if he teleported back here for it. If the kid wouldn't leave otherwise... He muttered a curse beneath his breath, using his power to lock the door and then seal it behind himself - that way the youth's tormentor would be held back at least for a little while. It wasn't the solution he wanted, but it would be something.</p>
<p>He made his way along, cursing the youth. He was clearly disoriented from the fever, but even so he had the potential to be dangerously stubborn, and kill himself with his own stupidity.</p>
<p>Using his senses, he searched for any sign of others. He could feel people in the rooms below, and in the basement, but it appeared that at least one thing was in his favour - only he and the boy were on this floor of the house.</p>
<p>He opened the study door, not sure what to expect. He doubted he'd actually find the boy's rosary, but at least this way he could tell him he had looked, and hopefully when he returned the boy would be asleep. He could just grab him and take him to safety. The child would protest, but he would live.</p>
<p>The man's desk had a book open on it. Erik approached cautiously, flicking through the first few pages - he didn't understand it all, but he could read enough to tell that the man had been experimenting on a large number of mutants. He'd need more time to understand and work out a course of action. Erik picked that book up, before resuming the search for the rosary.</p>
<p>It didn't take long to find the metal of the main bead - in the man's desk. He pulled it open, floating it to him, and then marching triumphantly back to the youth's cell-like room. All the time he was aware of those in the rooms below, aware that he would probably find even more reason in his stolen book to return and kill the human who was holding this youth here.</p>
<p>The boy was clinging to consciousness by the thinnest of threads when he returned, but his face lit up when he saw the rosary that Erik had brought. He reached out with his strange hands, clasping it to his chest. That beatific smile settled again on his face, and Erik shook his head, pressing down the fondness he was feeling for the boy. "What's your name, kid?"</p>
<p>"Kurt," the boy murmured, sounding almost unsure. Carefully, Erik lifted him, aware that the boy wasn't yet strong enough to go to Logan - it looked like his next few days would be spent playing nursemaid to the strange youth. Erik shook his head, seeing how Kurt was clearly unaware of the world beyond the beads in his hand.</p>
<p>"Kurt, stay with me. No disappearing off, alright?"</p>
<p>The boy went to nod and seemed to fall asleep, only the shallow rise and fall of his chest indicating that he was still among the living. Erik wanted to go and slaughter every human who had hurt the youth, but he knew that if he did the boy wouldn't survive. His revenge would have to wait.</p>
<p>Kurt curled closer against him in his rest, and Erik pulled the blanket over as much of him as he could - he would have to walk through crowded streets, and people would notice Kurt's appearance. He took one last look over his shoulder at the house, then hurried away.</p>
<p>Moving at daytime would make it easier to spot him, but facilitated blending in with a crowd. Creed was driven by scent. The bustling market was their best chance to hide their presence, and then on - back to the rooms Erik had rented for the week. Now that Mortimer was gone, Kurt could take the bed. Erik didn't need a bed, perfectly comfortable sleeping in a chair near the door. "Come on, Kurt," he whispered under his breath as they hurried along. "Just keep breathing."</p>
<p>Kurt at least obeyed that, his body limp and mostly-concealed beneath the blanket as Erik hurried the two of them back to his rooms, making sure to take an indirect route. The boy's skin was warm and damp in a way entirely different from the slimy texture of Mortimer's - Kurt was ill, barely living.</p>
<p>Erik hoped he hadn't been too late.</p>
<p>He got back to his rooms and placed Kurt down on the bed, setting about cleaning the worst of his injuries while the boy slept. He was careful not to harm him, or to dislodge the rosary the boy had wrapped around those strange thick fingers. He washed him, then began to stitch up some of the deeper cuts, using his powers to hold the needle while he ran a comforting hand over the youth's shoulders.</p>
<p>Kurt's eyes made a few weak attempts at opening, but Erik shushed him, and he rested again, clearly overwhelmed by tiredness. Erik dressed the boy in some old pyjamas he had, tearing up the ends of the sleeves and the legs so that Kurt's strange limbs would fit. Once he was clean, treated and dressed, Erik sent for some soup and fed him carefully, propping him up on some pillows, the bowl balanced on his knees as he floated the spoon with his powers.</p>
<p>As he fed him, Kurt seemed to wake a little. The boy gazed out at the world from underneath thick dark eyelashes, looking around with citrine eyes. Erik kept his voice gentle, murmuring soft words of reassurance to him.</p>
<p>"It's alright, Kurt, you're safe now."</p>
<p>Kurt immediately glanced to his own hand, clutching the rosary tighter. "You got this. Danke. I did not think... Danke..."</p>
<p>"Why did it matter so much?"</p>
<p>"When I was a little boy... I have found myself in many places. But there was a circus, and a kind woman, a fortune teller... her name was Margali. She found me. She showed me kindness. Gave me food. And taught me in my faith. She... she gave me this.... I was sold to another show not long after. But this... it is... it is my reminder that people are good. It... helps me." He brushed his fingers over the beads, and Erik sighed a little.</p>
<p>The rosary itself might not have been worth risking his life for, but he'd also found a book full of information, and that was promising. He would look through it once Kurt was asleep.</p>
<p>"You should rest."</p>
<p>"You helped me." Kurt stared. "Why would you help me?"</p>
<p>"I'm like you," Erik answered, calling forth a scrap of metal from his dresser and twisting it through the air, shaping and reshaping it. He could remember Shaw telling him that mutants and the gifted were different kinds of beings, that mutants were below humanity and the gifted above them, beyond them. It was all bullshit. Whatever marked the gifted as different was the same. He smiled at Kurt, floating the metal back down. "And anyway, I don't like men like the human that held you. He will be upset you are gone, so I am glad that you are free."</p>
<p>The boy looked at him thoughtfully, clearly still exhausted and weak, and smiled knowingly to himself.</p>
<p>"What is so funny?" Erik asked.</p>
<p>"It is amusing how... you find reasons to excuse your goodness. As though it is a mark of shame. It should not be." Kurt yawned, curling up, his tail wrapping around his chest.</p>
<p>"You need sleep. Then tomorrow I can take you to the circus."</p>
<p>"You are selling me?" Kurt asked, and there was no sorrow in his voice, merely curiosity and a sense of bitter acceptance.</p>
<p>"No. I am taking you somewhere you are safe. It is not safe here - that Creed will be looking for you. Someone he hates has offered you protection. You will be safer there."</p>
<p>"You are a good man," Kurt mumbled.</p>
<p>Erik snorted, helping the boy lay down and wrapping a blanket around him, then taking the scrap of cloth the boy had had wrapped around him. "I am going to take this somewhere else, lay a false scent trail. I won't be long."</p>
<p>Kurt had already fallen asleep. It didn't take long to slip away with the ragged blanket, to trail it along the floor through the marketplace and then down a deserted alleyway. He called some scrap metal from his pocket, wrapped it in the blanket and floated the blanket up onto a rooftop. Then he returned home via a circuitous route.</p>
<p>Kurt was in bed where he had left him, still apart from the ever-busy twitching of his tail. Erik lit a candle, returning to his desk, and used his power to hold the light as he began to read the book he had stolen.</p>
<p>The information was good, and there was a lot to discover there. Information about the children Stryker was experimenting on, records from his old circus and his new exhibits. But he'd also made notes of meetings he held with like-minded individuals. A Nathan Essex, whose name sounded vaguely familiar and who was interested in the possibility of combining mutations. A Doctor Xavier, who had already gained a telepath for his experiments, and according to Stryker cheated him of a mutant the other day. Other humans, all of them deserving to forfeit their lives for the cruelty they inflicted.</p>
<p>Kurt slept on as Erik read all about the experiments that had occurred, the children that had suffered. He kept scanning the pages, ignoring the sickness bubbling within him, looking for any sign of Shaw - or Schmidt, since sometimes the man used that name.</p>
<p>There was nothing.</p>
<p>He collapsed back against his chair with a faint groan, feeling a little lost, a little useless. This was hopeless, it seemed. He was failing at every turn to find the key detail he needed to track down that monster, wipe him from the face of the earth.</p>
<p>Kurt whimpered in his sleep, his feet kicking and tangling in the blanket. Erik stood, freeing him, and wrapped it around him once more, providing what little comfort he could. He knew it wasn't enough. It was never enough. But he had to do what he could for him.</p>
<p>He brushed the hair out of Kurt's eyes with his good hand, thinking of the cruelty that the world had shown good children, children like Kurt and Toynbee. He didn't know how anyone could see what had happened to them and not feel hatred. But Kurt was at least proving stronger than he thought.</p>
<p>Tomorrow, he would be able to take Kurt to Logan, provide him with a new start, a new hope. Let him learn what it was to have a life that was worth living. And then, once Kurt was safe, he would begin to hunt down the monsters in this book, free their prisoners.</p>
<p>It would help mutantkind, but it would also move him closer to his own goal. He was sure, certain, that at least one of these monsters would know Shaw. He just needed to find it out, and then he would be one step closer to ridding the world of a monster.</p>
<p>He made sure that Kurt was as comfortable as he could be with his injuries, then settled into the chair. That night, when he dreamed he dreamed of revenge rather than pain, and when he woke up he felt a strength inside of him, like a solid core of steel.</p>
<p>He woke up early, sending for some toast for himself and his guest. He gave Kurt a slice thick with butter and jam, knowing the boy would need the food. Kurt ate eagerly, his tail swishing from side to side with every bite, and Erik watched him closely.</p>
<p>"How are you feeling?" he asked when the boy had finished his toast.</p>
<p>"Better. Very much better, danke."</p>
<p>"That's a good sign. I want to take you to the circus today, alright? Because it will be safer for you there."</p>
<p>The boy nodded quickly, even though he looked nervous. "Thank you. That is most kind."</p>
<p>"It's alright." Erik considered, thinking of Toynbee - who had to be a couple of years younger than this boy. "There's another boy who has just joined the circus. His name is Mortimer Toynbee, and his looks... have meant he was alienated by others. I wonder, would you keep an eye on him for me?"</p>
<p>Kurt nodded, and Erik grinned. "Don't tell him I suggested it, okay?"</p>
<p>"As you wish." Kurt stretched, his arms and legs seeming impossibly long. Erik frowned at him, wondering how best to get him around the city - he supposed his coat would cover most of him, and combined with a shawl to hide his hair and ears - if his head was ducked... He helped Kurt to dress.</p>
<p>"I don't suppose you can teleport us there, can you?"</p>
<p>"I'm afraid not," the youth answered, looking disappointed. "I can go no further than I can see, and it... it tires me."</p>
<p>"And you were willing to do it for a necklace."</p>
<p>"Not for a necklace. For my rosary. For the reminder there are good people in the world. Then yes. I would always want to know that there are good men and women. Like Margali. Like you."</p>
<p>"I'm not good." Erik snorted, trying to ignore the way his chest ached at that comment. "You let yourself believe that, you'll only get yourself hurt. Now come on. Can you stand?"</p>
<p>The boy tried, but he was unsteady on his feet. Erik wrapped the boy's arm around his shoulder so that he could support his gangly form, heading down and hailing a hackney carriage for the two of them. There was no point in risking walking through the streets when Kurt looked the way he did - plus walking was causing the boy pain.</p>
<p>The carriage deposited them near the circus, and Erik half-led, half-carried the boy the remaining distance, heading straight to Logan's caravan. He knocked on the door.</p>
<p>It was Laura who opened it, gazing up at him and Kurt with a wide-eyed, gap-toothed smile. Kurt grinned back at her.</p>
<p>"Hallo," he greeted her. She waved back up at him enthusiastically, giggling to herself.</p>
<p>"Hello! Papa, papa!" She ran inside, and Erik could sense the moment she jumped on Logan, putting weight on him and squashing his metal-enclosed skeleton for a moment. And then he was approaching, pausing in front of the two of them.</p>
<p>"You did it then?"</p>
<p>"I did," Erik agreed. "How is Toynbee?"</p>
<p>"He's settling in."</p>
<p>"I want to introduce him to Kurt here. They can keep an eye on each other."</p>
<p>"Alright. Victor didn't cause you no trouble?"</p>
<p>"It was fine. He didn't even know I was there," Erik answered, not mentioning the book he had found. He didn't want Logan to get involved in his vendetta - Logan had a child.</p>
<p>"Thank you." Logan yawned, stretching and then clambering down from his caravan barefoot. "Knew you were the best man for the job. Toynbee's in one of the spare caravans, just over here - thought I'd keep him close in case he had any trouble."</p>
<p>Erik nodded, not thanking Logan for that - he didn't want Logan to be under the impression he cared about the boy. As he approached the caravan, Toynbee rushed out and wrapped his arms around Erik's waist, pushing his clammy face against Erik's chest. Erik embraced the boy gently, ruffling his hair.</p>
<p>"How is it?"</p>
<p>"This place is great, Mistah Erik! An' Mistah Hank says he thinks he can teach me tah read an' stuff. An' I like it here, they're all..." The boy paused, staring past Erik at Kurt, who was curled up a little, gripping his tail in an attempt to calm himself. "Yer blue."</p>
<p>"Is... is zat a problem?" Kurt asked anxiously, his shoulders rising up until they brushed his strange elfin ears.</p>
<p>"Nah, I just ain't seen a blue person before," Toynbee answered. "You're the one tha' Mistah Erik said he'd be bringing, right? Well, 's good here. Yer gonna be happy here, promise. You wan' me ter show ya round?"</p>
<p>Kurt glanced up towards Erik. Erik smiled, giving him an encouraging nod and stepping back. Toynbee wiped his hand on the leg of his trousers before offering it to Kurt.</p>
<p>Kurt reached out towards him, and the two boys walked away, Toynbee muttering about all that he had done in the past day. Kurt was stumbling a little, but he leaned on Toynbee, and Erik knew they’d be alright.</p>
<p>"Was it bad?"</p>
<p>"Fairly bad," Erik agreed, not going into detail. "I've given him some food, which helped, and some rest. But yeah, just... keep an eye on him."</p>
<p>"I won't let Creed anywhere near him," Logan promised.</p>
<p>"I know. Take care of them. I'll see you around."</p>
<p>"You're not planning to stick around to talk to them?"</p>
<p>"They're fine without me," Erik answered, before walking away. He knew Logan didn't necessarily want him there. That was alright. What he had to do could be done in secret, away from the community Logan had formed.</p>
<p>The two youths would grow up in a kind of sanctuary, and he would carry on in the shadows, doing what needed to be done without the knowledge of the truth staining their lives.</p>
<p>Erik returned to his rooms and packed up his things, arranging moving to another lodging house - he knew that to someone with heightened senses his room would smell of Kurt, and he didn't particularly want to bring Creed's rage down upon him when he was so close to some kind of victory. He paid the landlady, then headed to another set of rooms he had scouted out a few days previously.</p>
<p>He'd been on the run for almost ten years now. First cringing away from danger, then heading towards it. Now, finally he accepted it. It wasn't what he wanted, wasn't what he wished for - but danger was something he would face, so that boys like Mortimer and Kurt didn't have to. He'd learned which precautions to take, knew the mistakes that humans tended towards, the ones that left them weak.</p>
<p>It was the steps against mutants and the gifted that were hardest - but with what he had glimpsed from Shaw as a child, he had to defend himself from them as well. A few years back, he'd even been lucky enough to encounter a telepath who had helped him - not just to build thick mental shields that he could use if he needed to, but who had tangled his memories and thoughts into the shields - she'd made it so that no telepath could rip knowledge from him. It meant that the secrets he held, the knowledge that was safe in his mind, wouldn't be taken. It meant he could have certainty that he would not betray his kind, and that was worth any risk.</p>
<p>Once his few possessions were laid out in his new room, he sat by the fireplace, using his powers to tend the flames as he massaged his hand, trying to rub away the pain that was lancing through it due to the cold of the night.</p>
<p>Eventually, he gave up, returning his focus to the book he had taken.</p>
<p>He flicked through the pages again, feeling a little sickened at the callous disregard that was shown for mutants on those pages. He couldn't help smiling a little when he saw that Stryker had apparently once known the men who had experimented on Toynbee. He was making his way into the network of humans here who thought they could freely torture children.</p>
<p>His only concern was picking his next target. He intended to return to Stryker, but he was aware that it might be a mission he wouldn't come back from - Creed had always been violent, and he couldn't see the loss of Kurt doing anything to endear Erik to him.</p>
<p>There was one name his attention kept being drawn back to. Doctor Xavier - apparently the man was experimenting on children, had a telepath girl and had taken some experiments from others, including Stryker. That meant he knew what Stryker was like, and had chosen not to stop him - and as far as Erik was concerned, that was more than enough reason to kill the man. Not to mention, he was apparently wealthy enough that his disappearance would send a strong message.</p>
<p>Erik smirked to himself, pulling a knife from his bag and strapping it to his side, then checking through the book once more. He extinguished the fire, stowing the book out of sight in the fireplace - if he didn't return, then the fireplace would be lit by the next guest, and the evidence destroyed. He paid for the week, and then he slipped away, heading out into the night. He didn't take a carriage this time. He didn't want to be seen, for anyone to connect him to his room. And anyway, the walk helped him to clear his head.</p>
<p>By the time he arrived, he was ready to do what had to be done.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>"I know you don't want to go to bed, Jean, but poor Scott is exhausted." Charles sat in his chair, watching his adoptive daughter play with Scott. She was attempting to teach him chess, an endeavour which would probably have had more success if not for the way that Scott was half-asleep on his side of the board.</p>
<p>"But Papa..."</p>
<p>"How about Scott goes to bed, and you can have a story?" Charles suggested indulgently. He knew he spoiled her, but she was an amazing young girl, and he wanted to ensure that she knew she was loved.</p>
<p>Jean went to nod, and then Charles felt a flicker of concern as she looked towards Scott, sat opposite her and fidgeting with a pawn. "Can Scott have a story too?"</p>
<p>"Do you want a story, Scott?" Charles offered, and the boy nodded, attempting to mask his yawn behind his hand. Charles laughed, and nodded. "Alex, can you help the children get ready for bed? And then I can share a story with you both.</p>
<p>"Can I do pictures, Papa?"</p>
<p>"I think that would be a wonderful idea," Charles agreed, and her face lit up with delight as she hurried off to get ready for bed.</p>
<p>Charles thought of his own childhood, how lonely he had been in such a large mansion, feeling the weight of the family name and the knowledge that he had little chance of support. He hoped that Jean would never know what it was to feel so hopeless and alone.</p>
<p>In his childhood, he had at least had the comfort of his sister. Until he'd broken her heart and driven her away, all in a desperate attempt to shelter her from the cruelty of the world around her. He couldn't regret the choice he'd made, for all he missed her - he would always put her safety above her happiness.</p>
<p>He shook his head, clearing away the dreary memories of a painful past. What mattered now were his children, and they were waiting for their story.</p>
<p>He read to them, praising Jean for the images that she conjured so easily, ghosts floating through the air before them, and then headed to his room. He heaved himself into bed when he was ready, arranging his unmoving legs beneath the blanket. He closed his eyes and prepared to sleep.</p>
<p>He woke at the sense of another mind nearby, driven, focussed and full of an unusually strong rage. A single figure. He could feel their mind approaching, sense their anger. He opened his eyes as the man lowered himself from the windowsill, and Charles saw the knife in his grasp.</p>
<p>In a heartbeat, he had reached out with his powers and frozen the other man where he stood, permitting him only the movement to breathe. He then took a moment to gather his thoughts, to calm himself and lift himself up so that he was sitting in bed, before he returned his attention to his would-be attacker. A thought, and the blade dropped from the man's hand. Charles looked at him in silence.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments greatly appreciated, update will happen when I can</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for mentions of blood and violence, and Charles's terrible no-good decision making skills</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Erik froze as the man's eyes snapped open. That wasn't an exaggeration or turn of phrase - as soon as the man became aware of him, he felt control of his own body slip from him, and he stood frozen in place, until his fingers released the knife. He panted for air, trying to understand - he could breathe, but he couldn't move, couldn't even blink. He felt like he had been stopped, preserved, like a pinned butterfly.</p><p>If his body had been his own he would have shivered at the thought. As it was, he stood petrified, waiting for the man to decide what to do, and he felt furious with himself for being so careless - he had known the man had a telepath he was experimenting on. But he'd gotten lazy, rash. He hadn't considered the possibility that the man would be gifted himself, be able to use his own abilities against Erik.</p><p>The man didn't even bother getting out from his bed, merely watched him there, looking at him coldly. Erik had been staring at him when he had lost control of his own body, and that meant he was able to see the way the man frowned a little. </p><p>He wanted to smirk, secure in the knowledge that he had been able to prevent the man from merely raiding his mind for thoughts the way he wanted to. But he couldn't. His mouth wouldn't move. He concentrated on keeping his mind devoid of deep thoughts, not wanting to make it any easier - the woman who had helped him had said that he would be shielded from invasive telepathy but had also warned him not to overly rely on his shields - it was easier for a telepath to unravel your thoughts if you provided them with an end that they could pull.</p><p>He felt angry with himself for being naïve - he'd been so focused on the telepath girl that he hadn't allowed himself to consider why she might be of particular interest to this scientist.</p><p>The fact that there had been no sign in the notes wasn't good enough - he knew he had to plan for every eventuality, or things could get out of control fast.</p><p>Doctor Xavier stared at him coldly. "Who sent you?"</p><p>The man might have been gifted, but that was a human response - assuming that someone like Erik had to be the tool of someone else, that he couldn't have been acting by his own choice, that someone else must have been pulling his strings. Erik longed to snarl at it.</p><p>Doctor Xavier leaned forwards a little. "You came to murder me in my bed. I think I at least deserve to know your name and why you are here."</p><p>Erik felt the ability to speak returned to him, and his eyes closed in a much-needed blink. Doctor Xavier was gazing at him with disdain.</p><p>When the man's hold loosened enough, Erik shook his head, concentrating on the blade that was on the floor, trying to will it up into his grasp. The man's gaze hardened from curiosity to something darker.</p><p>"No, I don't think I want you using your powers... your shields, they're like nothing I've sensed before." The scientist still looked confused, and Erik ached to laugh at him, until the Doctor leaned closer. It wasn't anger on the man's face now - or curiosity. It was interest. Seeing someone - something - that he didn't understand, that he wanted to. Unbidden memories of Shaw's little 'exhibitions', of strangers crowding around and watching hungrily as he was tortured, filled Erik's mind. He knew what men like this Doctor were like, how hard it was to stop them, to distract them from the object that they wanted to understand. That was why he did what he did - to protect his kind from men like him. But this man was both gifted and curious, and that made him far more dangerous than Erik could have expected.</p><p>For a moment, the scientist was silent, clearly caught up in his thoughts, and Erik could feel something pressing against those shields. He tried to stay calm, to breathe.</p><p>When the man opened his eyes, there was confusion there. "Those aren't yours. These shields... someone made them for you. There's... some thoughts, you wanted walled-off, so you got this to happen to do it. And it wasn't a bad idea, really. But you came here to kill me, to harm my family, and I can't allow that."</p><p>"You deserve to die." Erik managed to say, because he was certain of that, even though he was worried - he knew he was trapped. The notebook would be burned, at least, and Kurt was safe, but there was still a lot of pain coming. The telepath waved his hand, and he felt himself walking over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it.</p><p>The only chair in the room was beside the telepath's bed, and there was a desk covered in notes, and he wondered whether among that correspondence would be the information he'd been searching for, the information as to where Shaw had gone.</p><p>"I don't think you get to decide that, my friend." The scientist sounded amused, almost. "I don't know who sent you, but I will find out."</p><p>Erik smirked, knowing that the man wouldn't be able to get through his shields. He thought that with certainty, for himself. He knew he had the information sealed away - no telepath could wrench it forth. Trying would destroy his mind before it yielded answers. He projected that information alone forwards, a sense of victory backing it, before he allowed the thoughts to stop.</p><p>"Perhaps. Perhaps I can, I'll have to see. But even if I can't... whatever you were told about me, I'm not helpless."</p><p>Erik would have laughed if he had control of his body - Doctor Xavier had instantly taken control of him, manipulated him, moved him. It made no sense that anyone would think the man was weak.</p><p>"So I will ask you again." Xavier leaned forwards a little. "I want to know who sent you. You can tell me, or I can find out some other way, but it will be far more pleasant for you if you provide the information freely."</p><p>Erik shook his head.</p><p>"Well then. I will find out, and if I can't find out... I'll find someone else who can." The man was moving out of his bed now, tangled in his bedsheets, and Erik didn't quite understand, even watching the doctor lift his legs to the side of the bed. He only understood when the man wheeled around, pausing in front of him and looking into his eyes. "I can't just let you have free reign of my house. Not when you want to murder me. And the thing is, whoever made your walls... they had very specific plans in mind. I can't get your name. But... come with me."</p><p>He turned and walked away, and Erik found himself following automatically, wandering along down the corridor to another door, stiff with age. His damaged hand lifted, and he felt his power being used to open it, the energy travelling through him without his will. He walked inside.</p><p>The room was thick with dust, but otherwise not unpleasant - there was a large bed, an empty fireplace, a writing desk and some travelling trunks. The wall was lined with book cases. </p><p>"Whoever designed your shields, they made sure that I couldn't force you to give me information. But I can do things with your body, with your mind." The doctor's smile was cold. "I can trap you, hurt you - you must have been very sure you could hold your tongue..." He sighed after a moment. "Now, one last time. What is your name?"</p><p>Erik knew he could withstand torture and pain. At least until his mind was flayed open, and by that point the information would be gone. Logan didn't deserve this. And soon Kurt's disappearance would be common knowledge. It wouldn't take much for the doctor to realise - and Creed would know his scent. He was on limited time. But he wouldn't make it easy.</p><p>The telepath closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them again, looking at him coldly. "You're not going to be able to leave this room. You can try, if you'd like. If I enter the room, you will sit down on the bed and you won't cause any trouble. You can look around the room. I will bring you food. But you won't be able to attack me, and you won't be able to leave."</p><p>Erik snarled at him, and the telepath merely smirked. </p><p>"This is a temporary arrangement. I have a friend who would be better placed to find out what you know, but I don't believe I can get him immediately. But he'll be here soon. And even if you won't talk to him - his senses can pick up details. You'll be an open book. Are you sure you don't want to tell me your name?"</p><p>Erik stared at him. "I hope you rot."</p><p>"You speak," the Doctor laughed. "And yet still no name?"</p><p>Erik glared at him, hoping that all the anger and hatred he was feeling came across in his eyes. The doctor didn't seem overly bothered, holding him still as he wheeled away, leaving behind a candle.  Erik held himself until the door closed, reaching out with his powers - but they didn't feel right. There was something blocking him - he could sense the metal around him, but as he tried to use his ability to lift the window frame by the latch or open the door, nothing responded. He was, apparently, capable of floating an old and dusty chamber pot from beneath the bed, but all that achieved was startling a spider, which skittered off dustily.</p><p>Erik tried to take some deep breaths, to gather his strength, to centre himself in rage and pain, the way Shaw had always taught him. His fingers pressed against his old scar, and he stood up - his body was his own, at least.</p><p>His body remained his own until he reached the door, and went to open it. He found he couldn't move, couldn't do it - he found himself walking away once more. He was shaking now, in anger and fear and horror. Because he was trapped. He was trapped with a scientist who clearly saw him as something to play with, and his heart was racing.</p><p>The one good thing was that if the man fetched Creed - he wouldn't get the answers he wanted. Erik had known Logan for long enough - been protected by Logan for long enough - to know how to goad Creed to violence. And while Logan would end up screaming in agony, his insides spilled across the floor, and recover within a few brief moments... there was no such chance for him. He simply needed to rile Creed sufficiently, and a single swipe would be enough to kill him. He felt a sense of satisfaction of that - the knowledge he would die without giving up his name.</p><p>Hopefully, the news of his death would never find its way to Shaw, and the man would spend the rest of his life glancing over his shoulder, afraid of what was coming next, of whether Erik was hunting him. It wasn't much, but given the situation, Erik would take what comfort he could. </p><p>He explored the room, hoping to find notes about the Doctor's experiments, or information about the other scientists he corresponded with, but he found nothing. This room had been abandoned for a long time, waiting for someone to be trapped within it. But there were still trappings from the last resident - a man, judging by the clothes. Erik's height, but wider than him - stronger. He wondered if the man had been another victim of the doctor's cruelty. He couldn't find much. No notes or diaries, just a few books that looked as though they had never been read.</p><p>One book had been - the cover sun bleached, and well thumbed through, a few of the pages torn and then stuck back in. Le Morte d'Arthur. He picked it off of the shelf. He was trapped in a room, and apparently the telepath had managed to ensure he couldn't get out. He would return. While he waited, Erik felt he might at least do something, to stop himself from worrying too loudly, or allowing his thoughts to slip through his shields. It was better to focus on something.</p><p>He sat down on the dusty sheets and began to read by candlelight, refusing to allow the telepath the pleasure of feeling him panic.</p><p>***</p><p>Charles was trying very hard to remain calm, although that was difficult with the knowledge that he had been woken from his sleep by a man seemingly determined to murder him. He reached down awkwardly, lifting up the knife the man had dropped, examining it for any sign as to who he was or where he was from. The shape was unusual, a little curved, but he didn't know where it hailed from - weaponry had never been of interest to him.</p><p>He'd known there would be other people out there who shared Jean's gift for moving things with her mind. But the thought of one serving as an assassin chilled him. He knew he had made a number of enemies - it wasn't avoidable with the choices he had made. He'd been gathering enemies for a long time. </p><p>If only he knew who had sent the man, he would at least be able to prepare himself for whatever threat they would send next. He had to assume that it wasn't Stryker, as the  man would hardly be this subtle - he'd send the lumbering monster he had allowed to torture that poor boy. So not Stryker. Essex would be an obvious opponent, angry with Charles for daring to take his child and refuse to continue with the tests. Trask perhaps. He kept thinking through the enemies he had made as he lay awake in bed, thinking about what had happened, what it meant, what would come next. He didn't want to linger on the inevitable, his unspoken certainty that one day he would overreach, and even his abilities would be insufficient to shelter him from those who despised him. </p><p>Today, he had won. He had held back the assassin. He could allow himself to sleep, and know that for tonight, the enemy remained trapped. In the morning, he would have to start to plan.</p><p>Charles did not sleep well that night. His dreams were full of memories, of thoughts of what could have happened to Raven in the years since he had seen her past, to knowledge of the cruelty Stryker had visited upon his workers, to recollections of the poor gifted boy he had seen years before. The first time he'd come to realise that this was where his story ended - a boy badly beaten, exhibited to show off his control over magnetism. They'd been children then. Only in the eyes of the others watching, that boy had been a mutant, not a child. And Charles hadn't been able to help. </p><p>He could still hear that boy's voice, the thick accent and how desperate he had sounded. <i>Then don't let them find you. They'd do this to you and worse. Anything you try... it won't work. Don't give them you as well.</i> That helpless plea had stuck with him. And he had tried. He'd kept his powers if not completely hidden, then at least out of public awareness, and allowed the few who realised to assume he was very weak. He'd helped, and he'd shown his children what he was, but he hadn't allowed it to be common knowledge. If he had, he could have ended up like that boy.</p><p>And tonight, his luck had run out. One of his own kind had been sent to slaughter him. It didn't matter, in a way, if they'd been sent because Charles's ability had become known, or because he was simply too inconvenient for another reason. And yet to him it felt like it mattered - that he needed to know why he was despised.</p><p>He lay awake for hours between disturbed snatches of sleep, watching the cruelties he had witnessed play out before his eyes. His children were safe. That was what mattered. In the morning, he would deal with what had happened, and listen to Jean reading, and make sure that Scott was settling in well. That was what mattered. The monsters which lurked inside that room could wait a little longer.</p><p>***</p><p>Logan's sleep was restless. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong, something watching him. As he sunk deeper into sleep, nightmares came crawling out of the recesses of his memory, reaching for him with sharpened claws. In his nightmares, he was faced with Creed, eyes alight with madness, face covered in blood with a sick smirk on his lips.</p><p>"I knew you'd come back to me one day, Jimmy. You couldn't fight it forever, not with what we are. You can play at bein' a human all you want, but we both know what you really are. Beneath that fancy coat of yers, you're an animal, just like me."</p><p>Logan shook his head. He wasn't anything like Creed. Had never been- Creed stepped forwards, closing the gap between them, reaching down to grab Logan's hands and lift them up, looming over him the way he had when they were boys.</p><p>Logan tried to pull away, and his hands came back slick with blood. He screamed, fighting, and looked down on the ground, where Kurt's body lay ripped open. He blinked, and saw it was Hank there. </p><p>"I'm not like you-" he tried to protest, hypnotised by his lover's lifeless eyes. </p><p>"You tell yourself that, Jimmy, but it don't make it true. We're monsters, always have been, always will be..."</p><p>Again, Logan tried to pull away, freezing when he saw a figure tearing at Hank's body - her dark hair slick with blood. He could hear Creed laughing, the sound insane, overpowering, and he wanted to scream and fight and stop him but he felt pinned.</p><p>His hands tensed, his claws preparing to emerge, and he twisted, slamming them down.</p><p>He felt wood splintering beneath his fist and opened his eyes. To a human, the caravan was dark. But he could make out the figure of Hank in the corner of the caravan, curled around his daughter. Laura looked terrified.</p><p>Logan knew he'd done that. He got to his feet. </p><p>Hank stood as well, pushing Laura back, reaching out towards him. "I'm sorry, I couldn't wake you-"</p><p>Logan felt like he wanted to be sick - Hank shouldn't be apologising to him for his temper. For the nightmare. He shook his head, making his way past him, and headed out into the fresh air. </p><p>"Logan-"</p><p>"Go back to bed," he told Hank. He didn't deserve the comfort of his family. He heard Hank mumbling kind words to Laura, but he didn't let himself linger, didn't let himself think about what could have been - he'd scared them. He didn't deserve them. Because the figure in his nightmares was right - he was an animal. </p><p>He paced around the edge of the circus, trying to calm down, sniffing at the air for any sign of danger, any reason for why he was unsettled. There were no obvious answers, no monsters emerging from the shadows. Just him, alone in the darkness.</p><p>He was heading back towards his caravan when he heard someone approach. It was Mortimer, and the boy smelt afraid - his skin paler even than usual, and hands clenched into quivering fists. Logan knew in his heart it wasn't that the boy was scared of him - the boy was just scared. No wonder - from what little Mortimer had told him, it sounded like he was used to being beaten for needing anything. Logan did his best to look reassuring, and nodded a greeting to him.</p><p>Mortimer held his head up, despite the stoop that permanently shortened him, approaching the last little distance. </p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>"'s Kurt, Mistah Logan... he ain't well."</p><p>Logan nodded, following the boy back to the caravan Mortimer was sharing with Kurt - it meant both of them were nearby his own, if anything happened. "What's wrong?"</p><p>"He got a fever, an' he ain't makin' much sense," Mortimer answered, hurrying along beside him. "He's gonna be okay though, righ'?"</p><p>"I'll do what I can," Logan promised, striding up to the caravan. Inside, Kurt was lying in a hammock, a blanket over him, his skin damp with sweat. Logan didn't flinch at the marks his brother's claws had left on the boy. He sniffed the air, trying not to be obvious about it - he could smell an infection. Erik'd done a good job at cleaning the kid, but he was hurt bad, and one of the cuts wasn't doing so great. He walked over to him, checking his temperature. Not that high - that was good, the boy's healing factor wasn't strong, but it was still working in their favour.</p><p>"Mortimer, go and get Hank."</p><p>"Yes sir." The kid disappeared, leaving Logan alone with Kurt. It was a relief in a way, to realise he felt no desire to injure him or frighten him. All he felt for the boy was the same concern he had for any of his mutants, and some degree of guilt that it was his brother who had left him in such a state. Logan placed his hand on Kurt's forehead. "Don't you worry, kid. You're gonna be okay."</p><p>Kurt's strange eyes flickered open, and he looked straight up at Logan, as though he wasn't afraid at all. He nodded weakly, his hands fumbling with his rosary. Hank arrived, and Logan went to wait outside the caravan, distracting Mortimer until Hank called him in to give him instructions.</p><p>The sky was showing the first signs of lightening when Hank emerged, and reached for Logan's hand. "Come on, bed time."</p><p>"I don't-"</p><p>"You should come to bed," Hank said softly. "He's going to be okay. I've told Mortimer to fetch us if he gets any worse, and to help him drink, but his body's just handling a lot right now. He'll be fine in a day or two."</p><p>"It wasn't about him. I could have hurt you."</p><p>"You didn't," Hank reasoned. "Come on. Bed."</p><p>"What if I-"</p><p>"You woke me up long before you got to be any danger, Logan. I could feel you panicking, and so could Laura. We got out of the way."</p><p>"I don't want to hurt you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me..." Logan could feel the pain inside of him, the fear that deep down he was just a monster.</p><p>Hank squeezed his hand and guided him back to the caravan, where Laura lay sprawled in their bed. At their return, she rolled over, tucking herself against the wall. Hank slotted in beside her. "Come on, Logan. It's cold."</p><p>Logan hesitated. He wasn't sure he should be here, wasn't sure he was good enough to be here. But he was only human, and the bed was warm. It was easy to approach, to slip beneath the brightly coloured blanket and burrow into the warmth of Hank's furry body, allowing himself to rest. Kurt would be alright. No matter what his nightmares told him, Kurt was safe now. They all were.</p><p>For now at least, everyone was where they needed to be. He felt Laura's little hand grab at his own, and he managed a smile, pressing a kiss to Hank's shoulder before he fell into a far more peaceful sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Huge thank you to everyone who has commented so far, you are so encouraging!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eventually, the candle that Erik had been left with guttered and died, and he had to stop reading, leaving behind the legends of Tintagel to focus on his situation in the here and now. He was the prisoner of an undeniably powerful telepath, one who had turned his own gift against him and trapped him in an abandoned bedroom.</p><p>He focused on the freedom he did have - he still had a degree of his power, and he wasn't literally chained down. So far, at least, there was no collar holding him back from his gift, only the invisible barrier that had been placed within his mind. That was all valuable, all something he could make use of. </p><p>It was hard to focus on that alone in the dark.</p><p>He rubbed at the old scar on his hand, trying to relieve some of the ever-present pain and silence the voice in the back of his head which said that so many of these scientists knew each other. He could picture Shaw's smirk if he was returned, as helpless as he currently was. It wasn't a thought he wished to linger on, full of unspoken horrors.</p><p>The sky outside was growing lighter, but he decided it would be best to try and sleep. If he was going to get hurt, he refused to face it tired. The woman who had made his shields had told him that tiredness would weaken them, and he couldn't allow that to happen, couldn't let himself be helpless. That meant he had to rest, even as his mind screamed at him to stay alert.</p><p>He lay down on the bed and focused on his breathing, on the good he had done. He thought of Mortimer and Kurt. He wasn't happy with their fate, but he knew that they were better off now than they had been before his actions. He'd killed a good number of monsters, and maybe he'd never managed to hunt down Shaw, but other mutants and gifted would live better lives because of what he had done. Whatever Doctor Xavier chose to do with him, he knew he had done well.</p><p>With that sense of pride, he was able to fall asleep, safe in the knowledge that he had done all that could be asked of him. </p><p>He woke to the sensation that there was someone watching him. He opened his eyes to find the telepath staring down at him curiously. If he had had full control of his powers he would have lashed out. As it was, he merely held himself still, glaring up in silence.</p><p>"I don't suppose I could trouble you for your name?" the man asked, and Erik could see the tray of food on his lap. He turned his head away - he wasn't some cringing animal who would do tricks in return for scraps from his master's table.</p><p>Doctor Xavier sighed, placing the tray on the dressing table, and then wheeled back a short distance. "You can eat. It's not poisoned."</p><p>Erik was tempted to refuse, but he'd starved before and he had no desire to repeat the experience. He sat up, snatching the tray from the table and bringing it to him, shoving half a slice of toast into his mouth before buttering the rest. </p><p>He half expected the doctor to sit there and observe in silence, taking notes as he ate. Instead, the doctor sighed and shook his head. "Look, I don't want to have a prisoner any more than you want to be a prisoner. If you tell me who sent you, we can discuss where we go from here, like civilised men."</p><p>Erik chose to ignore him, eating the food he had been given, feeling as though each mouthful was an act of rebellion.</p><p>"I don't want to keep you here, my friend," the man lied, and Erik shot him a cold glare, finishing his food, and crossing his arms over his chest. He knew there was nothing identifiable he carried with him - he was always careful. He'd made a lot of enemies over the years, and he would never give up those he cared about.</p><p>The telepath stared at him. "We both know you can speak. Playing dumb only insults both of us."</p><p>Erik stared at him coldly. The telepath shook his head. "I'll come back at lunch."</p><p>He wheeled towards the door. Erik got to his feet, planning to escape, and found himself unable to because of what the telepath had done to his mind. Before he could fight free, the man was gone, and he heard the key turn in the lock.</p><p>Fury and hopelessness swelled inside of him, and he went to stand by the window. Soon, the telepath would call for Creed, and it would be over.</p><p>Until then, he would make the most of the time he had. He couldn't escape, but he could observe, try and see things that would be useful. He gazed out across the immaculate grounds, and something about them made his skin itch - they were beautiful, elegant, but with an air of neglect - someone had tried to make them worth showing off, but hadn't cared about them.</p><p>He knew he was simply playing for time, trying to stop his mind from lingering on the inevitable, but he had nothing better to do. The doctor would return, with Creed - or worse, with Shaw, and it would be over. He shuddered, gazing out. It wasn't that far to the end of the garden. But when he went to open the window, he found he couldn't.</p><p>Fighting back a cry of frustration, he lay back down on the bed. He could hear those inside the house talking, the noise echoing around empty rooms and carrying on pipes, and he wondered how long he'd be left alone.</p><p>He knew Mortimer would assume he'd done something wrong. Something to drive Erik away. That knowledge stung, because the boy did all he could to be good, and the world had already taught him he was a failure. Erik hated the way his own inevitable death merely added to that argument.</p><p>He felt the telepath's mind brush his as he tried to read the book he'd found. The details didn't captivate him the way they normally would, but he attempted to press up his shields. A faint touch of displeasure appeared at the edge of his mind, then disappeared again, and he was left alone a little longer. He thought nothing more of it, until the door to his room swung open.</p><p>He had expected to see the doctor there, perhaps accompanied by either Shaw or Creed. What he saw instead was a little girl with fiery hair, no older than Laura, holding the hand of a blindfolded boy who was a few inches taller than her. He was attempting to pull away. </p><p>"Jean, you said we weren't meant to go in here," he whispered, and Erik was sure the boy didn't know he was there. He watched, intrigued, as the girl tugged her friend further into the room, looking up at him with big green eyes.</p><p>"We're not meant to go in here because the room's deserted," the girl, 'Jean', explained. "And the room isn't deserted, because there is someone in here. So we are allowed to be here."</p><p>"I'm not really sure that's how it works," the boy continued to whisper. "We're bothering Doctor Xavier's friend."</p><p>"Papa won't mind," Jean said with confidence. "Are we bothering you, Mister?"</p><p>"You're not bothering me," Erik answered with an amused smile. The door had been locked - one or other of them must have had some form of telekinesis. "But your friend is right, you probably shouldn't be in here."</p><p>"I could feel your mind," Jean told him, ignoring his criticism with the bravery only a small child could possess. "You seemed scared, or sad, so I thought I'd come and help."</p><p>"That's very kind, but I am quite fine," Erik reassured, looking at her, wondering if this was all some trap by Doctor Xavier. If so, it was a sign of how little he valued the children in his care. The girl at least looked uninjured. More than that, given how easy it was to hide injuries beneath clothes, she moved with the confidence of someone whose life was happy. The boy didn't. Even with his blindfold he darted his head around, seemingly on the lookout for some unspoken danger. Erik's heart ached for him. </p><p>"Are you sure?" She frowned. "Your mind feels all muffled, and scared-"</p><p>"I'm not scared, thank you, and I would rather you didn't poke around in my mind without asking."</p><p>"Oh, I'm sorry." She looked so crestfallen that for one ridiculous moment Erik was tempted to offer her his mind opened up, before he remembered that such a course of action would be a mistake. </p><p>"It is absolutely alright, dear. Now, you should leave, because I don't think your Papa would want you here."</p><p>"But... it's all dark and dusty in here." Jean's face wrinkled in displeasure. Erik considered - the girl was young, and innocent, and powerful. He didn't want to hurt her, but he did want to leave before Creed arrived.</p><p>"It is, it's not very nice."</p><p>"No, it's not," Jean agreed, clearly warming to the idea. "Papa should have put you in a nice room, where you can have a clean bed and a big fire... maybe we should have soup for dinner, soup always helps me when I feel sad."</p><p>"That sounds lovely. Now, how about you help me move to another room?" Erik suggested gently. "I'm afraid my mind is being very silly right now, and I can't seem to get through the door, but maybe you could fix that? If you make it so that I could get through the door, then I can go with you to a better room..."</p><p>The girl nodded innocently, and Erik felt a twinge of guilt - he hoped she wouldn't be in trouble. He wondered - she was small enough to be lifted up, and the boy with her was clearly the type to go wherever he was pulled. He wouldn't abandon them, he'd take them with him. Logan always needed more hands, and he would be willing to help gifted as well as mutants.</p><p>He smiled at her as kindly as he could, and she nodded, moving to stand in front of him, her forehead creasing with concentration as she attempted to help him. He knew he was taking a risk here, but a telepath might be able to undo the blocks the Doctor had created. </p><p>He felt something inside his mind twitch, the world around him coming into sharper focus. He grinned at her, reaching to lift her up and carry her to safety.</p><p>Her eyes widened, and she let out a piercing shriek.</p><p>***</p><p>Charles had long been accustomed to allowing Jean to begin her day by exploring the mansion. Even now, she regularly found new rooms or corridors to explore, and it kept her occupied and away from trouble. It also meant he was able to get on with some work without worrying about the chaos she could cause, before the two of them would meet up and he would instruct her. He knew at some point he would have to invest in a suitable governess, but he hadn't found one yet.</p><p>He had impressed upon her since she had first arrived the importance of her never stepping foot within what had once been Cain's room. He'd kept that door locked, and last night had opened it only out of an urgent need to remove the would-be-assassin before anyone came to harm.</p><p>He hadn't thought that she would go against months of instruction and open the door. He'd been certain she would behave, at least in that - he asked so little of her and tried to give her all she wanted. But he realised his mistake when he heard her scream.</p><p>He pushed himself away from the desk, reaching out with his mind, calling for Alex and Darwin, freezing the prisoner where he stood. He hurried down the corridor, arriving before either of the others, to find that Jean was squirming from the man's grasp. She rushed to him, burying her head against his shoulder as Scott cowered in the corner and the assassin glared.</p><p>"What happened?" Charles asked, smoothing her hair back from her face.</p><p>"I wanted to help him get to a nicer room, and so I helped him with his silly mind but then he... he tried to pick me up..." She sobbed, and Charles shushed her, rocking her in his arms. The man stared.</p><p>"Why don't you take Scott down to the kitchen so that he can get a snack, and me and my friend can talk about this?" Charles suggested. Jean nodded tearfully, wiping at her face and then reaching for Scott's hand, pulling him away. Charles waited until she was out of sight before he released his grip on the other man.</p><p>"You do not hurt my children, or I will shred your mind into ribbons," Charles informed him, eyes ablaze with poorly disguised fury. "Do I make myself clear?"</p><p>The man nodded, and Charles released his grip, restoring the instructions that Jean had naively cracked in her desire to help. "What were you doing to my daughter?"</p><p>"I was trying to rescue her," the man answered - and there was at least no sense of a lie there. "I thought that as a gifted she'd be better off away from you."</p><p>"You were wrong." Charles stared at him. "It is only because of her that you are keeping your mind, and trust me if you ever attempt to trick her like that again, it will be the last thing you do." He looked at the man, trying to see him clearly. There was something about him that seemed almost familiar, for all that he knew he couldn't have seen this man before - he would have remembered the combination of good looks and obnoxious attitude.</p><p>"You care for her?" The man sounded almost uncertain - as though he was surprised that Charles could bring himself to love a child that was not his own by birth. </p><p>He nodded. "I adore her more than words can say, and will wreak havoc on anyone who dares to harm her."</p><p>The man nodded slowly, then took a deep breath, clearly deeply debating something in his mind. He came to a decision, holding out his left hand for Charles to shake - his right hand was scarred and malformed, permanently twisted. "Your daughter is a kind soul."</p><p>"That does not mean I will allow others to show her cruelty."</p><p>"Of course not." The man swallowed, licking his lips, gazing at him curiously, then extended his hand further, pressing it towards Charles so that it would have been rude for him to refuse. Charles reached out and took it, grasping his hand firmly. They shook, and as they pulled away, the prisoner smiled.</p><p>"My name is Erik."</p><p>Charles stared at him, mind full of memories from the first time he had met another of the gifted. Raven, of course, had been his companion for a long time, but it was different to meet someone whose gifts were so close to his own. Not telekinesis, but magnetism had allowed the man to will a knife into his grasp.</p><p>For two decades, Charles had wondered what had become of that boy, the one whose gaze had burned with such fire despite the pain he was in. </p><p>And now he knew.</p><p>He knew he'd failed him. He hadn't been there to protect him. He'd turned his back on the boy when they were both children, and now here he was, slaughtering on someone else's command because he knew nothing else.  Charles knew logically he had only been a child at the time, but he still blamed himself. He nodded slowly, trying not to let on how his world was falling apart. "My name is Charles."</p><p>"Doctor," the man answered, his beautiful expression twisted in a sneer, and it stung in a way to know that after being haunted for so long by the memory of the other man, Charles meant nothing to him. </p><p>Charles pushed such selfish thoughts away. He had failed this man a lifetime ago, he didn't get to feel angry for the way he had survived. Erik had haunted his dreams since that meeting, and there was no flicker of recognition in the other man's eyes, no surprise at his presence. Even his telepathy didn't trigger the memory. Charles was not used to feeling insignificant, but that was how he felt at that moment. It took a few seconds for him to calm himself, the smile on his lips feebler than he would have liked.</p><p>"I don't want you to ever try something like that again. If you harm any child under my care, you answer to me."</p><p>"I wouldn't hurt them," Erik answered. And the worst part was - Charles believed him. Charles could see how as a young man used to violence, it would be easy to assume that everyone lived with the cruelty he had come to accept. His attempt at grabbing Jean had been foolish, but it was a rescue, not an abduction.</p><p>Knowing that didn't stop the anger he felt, though. His daughter had been put in danger, and he wasn't going to permit that. He took a steadying breath. "I don't suppose you want to tell me who sent you?"</p><p>"No one," Erik lied, and Charles sighed, turning and leaving the room. He needed to clear his head, and check on his daughter, and deal with what he had learned.</p><p>He wheeled out of the room, wondering if he could ask Logan for help, or if he'd just be inflicting more problems.</p><p>Alex was waiting for him outside, a frown on his face. Disapproval and concern radiated off of him.</p><p>Charles looked at him and sighed. "Alex, what is it?"</p><p>"According to Jean someone just tried to kidnap her and Scott. Why is there someone here?"</p><p>"He broke in to try and kill me."</p><p>"And... what, he is our houseguest now? Am I meant to provide a table setting for him? Do his boots need shining? Charles, you <i>cannot</i> be telling me that someone attempted to murder you, tried to kidnap your daughter and my brother, and is now... staying in a room, completely comfortably." Alex glared at him. "Charles, this isn't... you have your telepathy, how did this-"</p><p>Charles sighed, reaching out for the youth's hand and squeezing gently, knowing how Alex was able to work himself up at times in situations he felt were unfair. "Alex, I've got this under control." There was a sudden spark of irritation from Alex's mind, but Charles ignored it and carried on. "He is staying here for now, because I can't manage to decipher his thoughts to discover who sent him, and there is no point in sending him away to cause goodness knows what trouble unsupervised. It's far better that I actually manage this. So yes, he's staying."</p><p>"And he tried to kidnap my brother-"</p><p>"Him gaining access to Scott was a mistake on my behalf. Your brother is perfectly safe - I've altered his mind, he wouldn't be able to leave the room even if he wants to."</p><p>An indecipherable expression crossed Alex's face, and Charles understood - his telepathy made many people uncomfortable, and for all that Alex tried to be patient and understanding with him, it wasn't always easy for him. Charles glanced away. He didn't regret the nature of his gift. It meant that he was able to keep his family safe, serve the mutant community and protect his social standing. But there were definitely times when he wished he was gifted in a way that was more palatable. </p><p>"And you're sure he's safe?" Alex asked, and now Charles could sense the boy's fears of what would come next, of where he would end up, of whether or not he was going to be protected. Alex hid his past well, but Charles knew that Essex had made him suffer alongside his brother. </p><p>"I promise you, you and Scott are both safe within this house. I will not allow any harm to come to you, not all the time you are under my roof. And I have made provisions - if anything were to happen to me, you would remain safe."</p><p>With a sigh, Alex leaned in and embraced him. "You know, it isn't just me and Scott I worry about."</p><p>"Go and check on your brother," Charles instructed after a moment, unsure how to otherwise handle the fact that Alex cared for him. He never acted with the expectation that his efforts would be appreciated, or even recognised. But the mutants under his care seemed to return his affection, and that meant more to him than he could easily convey.</p><p>Alex nodded smartly, managing a small bow before he walked away. Charles wished that his sister still lived within the manor. He knew she was always good at listening to his problems and resolving them. But he had driven her away. And thanks to Raven's mutation, she was utterly unfindable. She could walk past him in a crowded street, and he wouldn't see her. That knowledge haunted him. He wanted to be a good brother, and her absence reminded him every day of how he had failed.</p><p>He didn't have Raven to ask, Alex and Darwin were too young, and Logan would be busy with his own work. That meant that trying to resolve the issue of the man in the locked room fell on Charles alone, a heavy weight on his shoulders.</p><p>He took a deep breath, bracing himself before he pushed himself along to his office, aware that leaving the would-be assassin in the room he was currently in was a short-term solution at best, and yet not quite sure where else he could go for help.</p><p>***</p><p>Kurt liked it at the circus. It reminded him of when he was younger, the only time he had ever felt at home, welcomed rather than despised for his appearance. But this was better - no one here tried to drug him between performances, or talked of selling him. Mister Logan, who ran the place, was very clear about that - this was their home, for as long as they needed it to be. They could stay or leave, freely, but no one would ever force them.</p><p>He had a caravan he shared with Mortimer, and it felt safe. He'd forgotten what it was like to feel safe, to know life outside of pain and fear. But he would learn, again, what it meant to have a home. He was determined about that. He wanted to be a good man, to help others who needed it, and this could be a place where he could learn that. It still hurt to move, his body covered in fading cuts and bruises. Mister Hank said he was lucky he had a healing factor, that without that he might not have survived. It didn't matter - he did have a healing factor, and his wounds were recovering.</p><p>Mister Logan said that for now he should focus on his recovery. Kurt liked Mister Logan, liked the fact he acted like he was one of them, even when he wasn't, even when he was actually in charge - he didn't act like he was in charge, didn't strike at them, didn't hurt them.</p><p>Mortimer was sat on the floor of the caravan, tracing letters on the wood with his fingertip, trying to recall the lessons from earlier in the day. Kurt had managed to twist himself so that he could watch from his hammock, and the two of them were practicing their alphabet together - it was clear that Mortimer thought himself stupid, had accepted the cruelty of the outside world as his due. Now, Kurt wanted to help him feel a little more confident.</p><p>"You're remembering them all well," he told the boy, and Mortimer grinned up at him, the smile wide and bright.</p><p>"Thanks. It ain't... it ain't so hard, not when Mistah Hank explains i'?"</p><p>"I think that's because you are cleverer than you give yourself credit for," Kurt told him, and the boy blushed a bright green.</p><p>"Thanks. You're real nice." Mortimer squirmed a little, fidgeting under the weight of kind words. "You know... Mistah Erik was the first person who... who believed in me. He didn't hit me or nothin', an' he said he though' I could learn to... he though' I could read an' stuff. So I gotta, right? 'Cause next time he comes tah visit, I wanna... I wanna show him he were right to believe in me.. y'know? Tha' makes sense, righ?"</p><p>"Yes, my friend, I think it does. I think he vill be very proud of you."</p><p>Mortimer squeaked, ducking his head, and Kurt laughed fondly. He had been so sure that he was going to die, and now... he felt he had a second chance. And he was lucky for it. Mister Logan had told him that here was somewhere safe from Creed - that there was no way that the monster would find him here. Kurt believed him. There was something in the way Logan had said it that sounded like the truth. He had a new home now, a second chance that he had never expected. He was grateful for it. But he couldn't help worrying about what else would happen, who else Creed might hurt.</p><p>"I... I hope yer right," Mortimer mumbled. "I ain't... I ain't fancy like him. But... I wanna make him happy."</p><p>"You're great as you are," Kurt reassured him, reaching out with his tail to ruffle the boy's hair. Mortimer smiled, looking up at him. </p><p>"Yer got any brothers or sisters? Do they look like you?"</p><p>"Not that I know of," Kurt told him, his heart twisting a little at the thought of others like him, abandoned and alone. He didn't return the question, knowing that Mortimer had been abandoned in his infancy, just like Kurt - too unnatural, too mutated to be considered children. "But... there was the circus back in Munich. Some of them there were kind, before they sold me. And aftervards, there was a girl I knew. I..." He shook his head. "She was little. Laura's age, maybe a little older. And she was good to me."</p><p>"You miss her?"</p><p>"I worry for her. She... I left her all alone, when Mister Erik took me."</p><p>Mortimer gazed up with wide concerned eyes. "That... that Creed hurt someone else?" he asked, terrified. It was clear that the very idea of Creed, and all that he stood for, scared him. He tried not to look at the injuries on Kurt's body, but Kurt knew it worried him. Kurt teleported down from his hammock, making his way over to the boy to embrace him briefly.</p><p>"He von't hurt her. He just scares her. She is... the scientist's daughter." Kurt sighed softly. "I do not like the thought of leaving her..."</p><p>"Maybe we can... we can ask Mistah Logan to get her."</p><p>"Maybe." Kurt smiled at him hopefully. "I think... I think zat would be a good idea."</p><p>***</p><p>Erik stared at the remains of breakfast, wondering how the alteration to his thoughts worked - whether he was stopped from approaching the window in its entirety, or only if he did so with the thought of escape. There were a few crumbs of toast left on the plate. He formed the idea of approaching the window and throwing them outside for the birds, concentrating on that thought. With that in mind, he was able to approach the window and brush the crumbs out, only to find himself stumbling backwards away from the window when he thought of clambering outside.</p><p>He settled again on the bed, glaring - there was a spider making its way up the wall, and he found himself following its journey, thinking of children's tales of Robert the Bruce, inspired by a spider to overthrow the English. It seemed foolish, but at least he wasn't entirely alone, awaiting the judgement of the telepath. "You trying to inspire me?" he asked it.</p><p>Charles, if that truly was his name, kept insisting that Erik was working for someone, and in a way that was a comfort - he clearly didn't realise that this was Erik's choice. It implied he had no idea what Erik had actually planned. He held onto that, waiting for Creed. It wouldn't be too hard to anger him - especially because Creed would have been able to smell that he was the one who had stolen his plaything. It wouldn't take Erik that long to frustrate him, and then... his life would end. He accepted it, even if he didn't enjoy that thought. The children would be okay. Creed wouldn't know where Kurt had gone.</p><p>The spider had continued going along, and he watched it in silence. He was trapped, awaiting his death - like a fly caught in a web. He could try to struggle, but each attempt only tangled him more.</p><p>With a groan, he laid back, picked up the book and continued to read. He tried to focus just on the words on the page, to block out the outside world. He felt Jean's mind brush his, but he blocked her out - he didn't want to cause more trouble for her. </p><p>There was something about Charles that felt familiar - he didn't understand it. He had no idea where their paths could have crossed before. Erik remembered flashes of a contented childhood, loving parents - and then he was taken away, under Stryker's hand. He'd been lucky - Logan had tried to protect him, sheltered him from the worst of Creed's violence. But Logan hadn't been able to stop Stryker selling him off when he got too old, and then he'd ended up with Shaw.</p><p>That was a decade of his life he didn't let himself linger on. What mattered was that he had gotten away and had been able to start out on his path to revenge. He'd removed a few monsters from the world, and he could be proud of that. But he hadn't heard of Charles until he'd seen Stryker's notes, and now.... he sighed, trying to focus on the words on the page. Whether he'd seen Charles before or not didn't matter, and he couldn't allow himself to linger on the idea that Charles knew Shaw. His fate was outside of his control, and he simply had to accept that. He could hear the children playing in the garden, and the sun was shining. It wasn't the worst time to die. He kept reading, blocking out the world.</p><p>Charles's chair approached his door, and he knocked. Erik put the book aside and sat up smartly. "Come in," he called out. He wouldn't let his fear show. Charles wheeled inside, carrying a tray of food. </p><p>"I thought you might be hungry." </p><p>Erik stared at him. He wasn't quite sure what Charles was playing at, making sure that he was fed and comfortable when he was the enemy. Charles approached, holding out the food. Erik used his powers to support the metal tray as he grabbed it with his good hand. Charles was staring at his injury. He was tempted to hide his hand away, but he didn't. He wasn't ashamed, and Charles didn't hide his own difficulties. </p><p>"What happened?" Charles asked, attempting to be friendly. Erik ignored him, beginning to eat lunch. It took a few moments for Charles to realise he had nothing more to say. Charles didn't back away, leaning in towards him. "Erik. I'm not your enemy here."</p><p>"Yes, you are," Erik informed him. </p><p>"Why? Whoever sent you here might hate me, but you have no reason to." Charles kept trying to reason with him, and Erik hated how reasonable he sounded, how he was trying to be kind and understanding. As though they were friends. As though he wasn't another scientist, experimenting on mutants.</p><p>And yet, the way Charles spoke - it really did sound like he thought he'd done nothing wrong. Erik hissed out a breath. "Why do you think someone sent me here?"</p><p>"It depends on who was responsible. But I know that my interest in mutants has earned me some enemies. But those are humans. We're both gifted. We have things in common my friend, far more than you realise."</p><p>Charles was trying to reason with him. He didn't want to listen.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much to everyone who left a comment. I now have this fic planned out in its entirety - expecting it to be about 20 chapters, and this mess will get resolved soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for mentions of past abuse</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan was glad to see Kurt looking a little healthier the next day - he was up on his strange feet at least, hobbling around and resting much of his weight on Mortimer. Kurt was remarkably friendly, a born performer - Logan had no doubt that once his injuries had healed, he would be the star of the show. Mortimer though seemed to want to cringe back into the shadows at every chance he got, always glancing around, as though he was trying to watch out for the next beating.</p><p>If Logan had his way, every person who had harmed a mutant child for being different would suffer what they had done a hundredfold. But such things were beyond Logan's power, and he knew that he couldn't simply surrender himself to a life lived in search of revenge - Erik had done that, and it had left him twisted like his shattered hand, always moving, always hunting... Logan had a reason to stay still. To do what was right.</p><p>Mortimer approached Hank, seeming to slink from shadow to shadow, his taller friend resting against him. Hank looked up, and Logan felt his heart fill with love at the expression on Hank's broad blue face - a smile, aimed at Toynbee. Hank was teaching the kid the basics. Mortimer might have been almost three times Laura's age, but no one had tried to teach him before, so he knew less than her. But Hank was teaching him with patience, and it was clear he was trying to soak up all the information he could.</p><p>Hank beckoned the boy closer, and shyly Mortimer advanced, crouched in his walk. He smiled nervously.</p><p>"I been practisin' my letters, Mistah Hank."</p><p>"That's good. Why don't you show me what you remembered?"</p><p>The boy nodded, starting to practice. Kurt watched him for a moment, then stepped away, squaring his shoulders. Logan fought back a wince when the youth's gaze landed on him and Kurt walked over. He tried not to look at the scars that marred his face, the delicate patterns that had been cut into the skin, tried not to picture Victor's claws. </p><p>Kurt smiled at him brilliantly. As though the world was good. His hand was fiddling with his rosary, and Logan tried not to stare at him. It wasn't the boy's skin or appendages that caught his attention, nor even the scars, not really. It was the brightness that lingered in Kurt's eyes, when any sane person would have given up all hope long ago.</p><p>"You doing okay there, kid?" Logan asked gruffly, hoping that the boy would take the hint and leave him in peace. Instead, Kurt stood up straighter - the only sign of the anxiety he was feeling was the way his tail was twisting and turning around behind him.</p><p>"I am sorry to bother you, but I have a favour to ask," Kurt murmured, and fear was coming off him in waves now. He stank of it. But he was holding his ground, and that impressed Logan enough to make him curious.</p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>"I think... if possible, I might need your help." Kurt swallowed, his tongue slipping past those pointed teeth, and Logan gritted his teeth and nodded.</p><p>"Spit it out, boy."</p><p>"I am thankful, so very very thankful to you and Mister Erik for rescuing me. I will be thankful for every day I live, for the rest of my life. I vill never forget the kindness that I was shown," Kurt explained, and Logan would have told him to cut to the chase, only he could hear the sincerity the boy spoke with, knew that he meant every word.</p><p>"You don't have to be. I sleep better knowing Creed's having a bad day."</p><p>Kurt shivered slightly at the name, but he hid it well. He held Logan's gaze, took another breath, and then continued speaking. "Stryker has a daughter. She is a few years older zan Laura. A good girl. A mutant, like us. She vas kind to me. Brought me food, showed me kindness. I fear for her alone zere. I know I ask too much, but..."</p><p>"Stryker's kid is a mutant?" Logan frowned. He could remember little of his time when Stryker had controlled the circus, his mind sheltering him from the worst of the pain. He knew enough to pity the child though. He remembered Stryker's wife, a cowering woman who couldn't meet your gaze. And a baby boy that Stryker spoke of cruelly.</p><p>"She is. She makes you see things... and he... he is cruel to her. He lets her be afraid. I just... I thought zat maybe... I had to ask." The boy's tail was twitching. "She... he says she is a boy, but she is not, she is a girl and... she was kind. I had to ask. She vould have asked for me."</p><p>Kurt said it as though it were that simple, as though kindness would always be returned. It wasn't that Kurt hadn't experienced cruelty, his skin proved that. But he'd somehow retained an idea of fairness. Of right. In Kurt's mind, things happened because they should. Part of Logan was tempted to disillusion him, but he pushed that aside. </p><p>"Of course we'll help her."</p><p>Kurt's face lit up with hope and trust, and all those emotions that children had. Logan didn't know what to make of it, aside from a vague sense that it fell on him not to break Kurt's heart, to let him keep that sense of security for a little longer. He wanted to comfort him.</p><p>"Danke," Kurt began, before shaking his head and trying again. "Thank you, Mister Logan. It means... It means so very much. Very much more than I can say, thank you. Danke." He blinked his strange yellow eyes, and Logan knew the boy was close to tears, overwhelmed by what he had done. Logan didn't know what to make of that, but he was glad to see that goodness had somehow lingered in the youth.</p><p>He didn't feel excited about the idea of dealing with Stryker again. Erik would probably be risking too much going back, although he was interested in revenge most times. And he couldn't think of anyone else suitable. From what Kurt was saying, the girl’s life wasn't in danger. But he couldn't leave a child in there with Stryker.</p><p>He realised he could ask Chuck for help. Both because Chuck was the best chance he had of getting some assistance, and because he wanted Chuck to meet Kurt. He wanted Chuck to see the injuries on the boy's body, think of what he had been through - what Chuck could have helped with, if he'd step out of his perfect mansion and do more for mutants, rather than funnelling money Logan's way and making nice with the worst kinds of humans. </p><p>"We can go and talk to the friend who told me about you. He might be able to help." Logan thought. "Later this afternoon, straight after the performance this evening. I'll ask Azazel to transport us because you're ill."</p><p>"I cannot go further zan I can see, anyway. Even when I am healthy. But thank you."</p><p>"It ain't nothing," Logan muttered, wanting to ruffle the boy's hair, reassure him he'd done nothing wrong. Logan didn't want to scare him - but right now the boy didn't smell scared. He didn't even smell nervous - he smelled maybe a little unsure, but that was the extent of it.</p><p>"Danke." With a final smile, Kurt disappeared, reappearing a short distance away. Logan raised an eyebrow, and the boy bowed with a flourish of his tail. Kurt was perfect for the stage, he just needed him confident enough to show what he could do. Kurt waved enthusiastically, before heading back to his caravan. He wasn't sure how Chuck would take being faced with the reality of the choices he had made. But he deserved to see them.</p><p>Logan knew he'd be haunted forever by knowing what had happened. As far as he could tell, Chuck deserved the same thing. He went to talk to Azazel, knocking on the door to his caravan. Azazel opened the door, and Logan stepped inside.</p><p>***</p><p>Jean was sitting beside Charles at the dining table, a look of intense concentration on her face. Her fork dangled in midair in front of her as she used her telekinesis to lift it.</p><p>"You're doing wonderfully, dearest," Charles reassured her when the fork clattered down onto the plate. "I am so impressed by your control."</p><p>She grinned up at him, and he could see the brightness and trust in her eyes. There was no sign of concern after her earlier misadventure, no distress after Erik had tried to snatch her away from him. She ate and talked happily, and was in every way the same bright-eyed and brilliant little girl she had been that morning.</p><p>He wondered how Erik was doing. He had delivered him a tray of food for dinner, which Erik had taken in silence, and then had returned down here. His hope was that after dinner they would be able to make another attempt at civilised conversation, but he realised the odds were not in his favour. Erik seemed to have chosen to despise him. He wondered what he had been told by whoever had hired him. Nothing good, clearly.</p><p>Yet Charles did not want to keep the other man prisoner. He would always rather work alongside a fellow gifted than against them, and it was clear that Erik needed support more than most. And yet, apparently he chose to refuse Charles's help. </p><p>Charles was still passing those thoughts around in his mind when he heard the doorbell ring. That surprised him - although he had several friends, and numerous acquaintances, he wasn't used to people who would arrive without giving prior notice of their intent to visit.</p><p>He reached out with his telepathy, and things fell into place. Logan had come - and there was another mind beside him, buzzing with hope and excitement.</p><p>"Jean, I'll be back in a minute..." He promised.</p><p>"Okay, Papa."</p><p>"Just stay here," he instructed, pushing back from the table and wheeling himself to the door to find Alex had already opened it and welcomed their guests.</p><p>Logan was standing there, smartly dressed and uncomfortable with it, and beside him was a youth with strange blue skin wearing an impressive oversized coat. The youth was gazing around in wide-eyed wonder, clearly trying to comprehend what was happening, whilst Logan stood on the doorstep.</p><p>"Good evening," Charles greeted him, even as his mind sought out Logan's own. <i>Why are you here?</i></p><p><i>I need to talk to you,</i> Logan insisted, stepping in. "Kurt here wanted to say thank you for his salvation, and ask if you could..." Logan frowned, scenting the air in a way that sent a spike of panic through his companion. Logan shook his head and continued after a moment. "Ask if you could help another mutant in need."</p><p>Charles nodded, wheeling backwards so that their visitors could come inside. "I'll have Alex make the two of you some tea." He was so glad to see the boy who had been in Stryker's thoughts - in the man's mind he was almost dead, barely worth the food he ate, and ready to be sold on before he died. But now, the youth looked if not healthy, then hopeful. </p><p>A few more good meals, some time not living in constant fear, and he would have as good a life as anyone with a visible mutation could hope for. The scars that marred the boy's skin were unfortunate, but he had survived that torture.</p><p>Charles could feel the bitterness emanating from Logan. The unspoken resentment of the other man, the certainty that he could do more. But things were not as simple as Logan pictured them. Even those with his gift could not simply reshape the world in his image. He knew Logan blamed him for this boy's scars, and knew that was so he didn't blame himself. But Charles knew that neither of them were to blame - the only one who could be held responsible for the boy's injuries was the man who had caused them, and the scientist who had stood back and let it happen. It was an old argument, one that became no less bitter for its repetitions. But he was confident in his conclusions. Charles had helped those he could. That was the limit of it.</p><p>Despite the obvious distress on Kurt's face, Logan kept sniffing the air, seeming distracted. Charles tried to ignore it, leading the two of them through to the drawing room and asking Alex to fetch some tea.</p><p>"Thank you for seeing us, sir," Kurt muttered, fidgeting where he stood, his tail wrapping around his own leg for comfort. </p><p>"It's quite alright," Charles reassured him. "I hope that you are happy at the circus?"</p><p>"Yes, sir. Very happy. It is... fun. I have been to other circus before, and it... it feels like home in a way. But this is better. No cages."</p><p>"No cages," Logan echoed, his voice almost a snarl, and Charles shuddered at the memories leaking from the other man. It didn't do to linger on such thoughts. </p><p>"You said another mutant?" Charles started, but before he could get any further along that line of questioning, Jean poked her head around the door. She squealed in delight at seeing Logan, and Logan grinned at her.</p><p>The young girl clearly took that smile as a signal to join them, dragging Scott closer, then frowning up at Kurt. "Excuse me?" she asked him, puffing her chest up with self importance. "You're blue."</p><p>"I am," Kurt agreed, holding out a hand for her to examine it. "I am blue, and you have pretty hair."</p><p>"Thank you." Jean smiled widely, too young for the decorum that would one day be expected for her. The world was full of mysteries and excitement, and for now that was enough.</p><p>"Hello, little Miss," Logan greeted her with a bow. "It's good to see you. And your friend here, how is he settling in?"</p><p>"We're good, thank you!" Jean answered with a bright smile. "Papa takes good care of me."</p><p>"I am sure he does," Logan agreed. "Now, I need to talk to your Papa..." There was still a look of confusion on his face, and Jean led Scott away as Alex arrived with tea. Logan accepted a cup, and the blue youth wrapped his tail around the handle of his own cup, sipping it carefully.</p><p>Logan frowned up at him, and Charles could hear the unspoken thoughts, the silent anger at all that had happened. "So Stryker's got a daughter, and Kurt here thinks she's in trouble. Thought you might want to help us."</p><p>"I feel that might draw a little too much attention. Unless you think her life is in danger?" Charles asked, turning to Kurt.</p><p>The boy shook his head earnestly. "I do not zink so. But she is a good girl, and very very scared of... of..." A tangle of nameless memories rose to the forefront, and Logan placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. After a few seconds, Kurt collected himself, took a deep breath and continued to speak. "She is a good girl, and scared of being there."</p><p>"I'm happy to give her a home, if you can get her out," Logan answered. "But I don't know who could help us. I'm sure Erik's already told you he has blown his chance there."</p><p>Charles looked at Logan with a mixture of uncertainty and distrust. Erik. Erik, who was upstairs in Cain's old room, trapped because that was all he deserved. Erik who had snuck into his house under the cover of darkness, with murder on his mind. Erik, who was a great many things, but a peacekeeper or helper wasn't among them. None of it made any sense.</p><p>"You know Erik?"</p><p>"I know Erik. I was the one who told him about Kurt. If you knew, you should have thought of him before me," Logan argued, and Charles wondered under what kind of circumstances that made any kind of sense. Charles had gone out of his way to ensure Kurt was safe. If Logan had let Erik know who was responsible for Kurt's disappearance... only that made no sense. Logan would never betray the mutants he had rescued, and Charles wasn't a sensible target if you knew that Logan had the kid...</p><p>"What's going on, Logan?" Charles asked, as he scrambled for some kind of meaning in all of the chaos.</p><p>"Mister Erik is here?" Kurt asked, his face lighting up in delight. "I did not get to say thank you properly to him for saving me."</p><p>"He saved you?" Charles frowned, looking at Logan. "He tried to kill me..."</p><p>Logan growled slightly and strode away, following his nose. Charles watched him stalk down the corridor, his claws extending. Kurt flinched, but went to follow. Charles pushed himself in front - if Erik posed any danger when released, Charles wanted to be the one to deal with it. He wanted to tell the others to calm down, to work out what they were doing.</p><p>He trailed in Logan's wake, feeling the anger coming off of him, until he reached the door. Charles half expected Logan to simply tear through the wood. But he paused, and then grasped the key, turning it in the lock and pushing it open.</p><p>***</p><p>The sensation of someone else in the house disturbed Erik from where he was sitting up on the bed, picking at the scraps of food on his tray. He was aware that he was trapped. That he was waiting for Creed. But there was  a difference between knowing the monster was coming, and having him in the house. He felt him move around downstairs, tracing his skeleton.</p><p>It was strange - at first he was surprised because he hadn't thought that Creed had a metal skeleton. And then he had registered the claws buried deep beneath the skin, and the height of the man - this wasn't Creed. Logan had come for him. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. But as the minutes dragged on, that certainty faded to concern, to terror. He couldn't help wondering what would come next.</p><p>Logan didn't know he was going to come face to face with a telepath when he'd come here. He would have charged in, claws drawn, temper flaring, the way he always did. He would have assumed he was facing a fair fight. And instead he seemed to have stuck in place. </p><p>Erik’s fears of Creed transmuted into concern for Logan - for what Logan's loss would mean. Because if Logan was gone, then the circus would fail, and far more of their kind would be left helpless and afraid. Erik didn't agree with all Logan did, but he understood why he did it, and he ached at the thought of Logan being lost.</p><p>Then Logan was approaching, fast, and he felt the key click in the lock. Erik scrambled to his feet - he wasn't backing down without a fight, and if he could injure Logan, save his friend - then all the better for it. Logan wasn't the kind to willingly work with a man like Charles, and that meant what was happening had to be unwilling. He swallowed, searching for the strength that remained. He wouldn't let Logan be manipulated. He knew Logan's fears around Creed, knew his determination to never become a monster. Erik wouldn't let that happen.</p><p>Erik expected Logan to want to fight. Instead he frowned, then turned around towards Charles.</p><p>"Why in hell's name is Erik locked in your room?"</p><p>"You know him?" Charles asked, and Logan stared in disbelief. He went to reply, but Erik didn't hear that, distracted by the sight of Kurt peering around Logan's side. He was grinning widely and waving with delightful enthusiasm, a broad smile on his face.</p><p>"Hello Mister Erik," Kurt greeted him. "Mortimer would want me to say hello. He talks about you lots."</p><p>"He keeping an eye on you?" Erik checked, with a teasing grin. Kurt shrugged to himself, then nodded.</p><p>"We share a caravan. It is very exciting, to have a friend so nearby. We can talk all of the time, and he listens so well. I am glad to have him. He is learning his letters. Maybe you should come and see, I know he would be very very happy if he could show you."</p><p>"I'll see what I can do," Erik answered, not mentioning how the telepath had confined him to a single room here.  The telepath kept glancing between him and Logan as though between them they held some giant secret that they only needed to confess in order for the world to make sense. He hid a smirk, but he thought the telepath knew.</p><p>"Kurt, can you go back and keep an eye on the children," Logan muttered, looking between them. The boy obediently disappeared, and Logan's attention turned to Charles. "Do you want to explain why you have him locked up? He doesn't seem particularly happy about it."</p><p>That confused Erik even more - and judging by Charles's expression, he was also utterly bemused by this turn of events. Erik couldn't help feeling a faint sense of satisfaction at the fact that Charles was just as clueless about what was happening at that moment in time as he himself was.</p><p>Charles spluttered a little, before seeming to regain the ability to speak. "He broke into my bedchamber while I was asleep and attempted to murder me."</p><p>Logan's frown deepened. "Then why didn't you kill him?"</p><p>"He was gifted. I thought he would have information we could use, thought he would be able to explain..." There was a soft sigh, and the telepath shook his head. "I didn't want to kill him. I wanted to see who sent him. If you know him-"</p><p>"It wasn't me." Logan sniffed the air, clearly hunting for any sign of deceit. "Erik, what is going on?"</p><p>"I sent myself." Erik decided to be honest to a degree. His notes were secure, and he knew his shielding wouldn't fail. He could explain what was going on, to some extent. "I found some of Stryker's notes when I freed Kurt. I thought I could use them to track down some of his contacts, see who we could get rid of. And Charles here felt like an obvious choice, given his purchasing of a young boy that Stryker had been interested in."</p><p>"I rescued Scott," Charles complained, eyes wide in indignation. "Because his brother works for me. I didn't want Stryker to get his hands on the boy - and for that I deserved to die?"</p><p>"Calm down, both of you," Logan snarled. "You're ridiculous." He glared between them. Erik raised his hands, the realisation that his death wasn't imminent slowly settling - Logan valued mutants. He wouldn't work for someone who would betray them. </p><p>"Who is Charles to you?" Erik asked Logan. Over the years, Logan had shown him kindness beyond measure. He was willing to accept Logan's judgement - if Logan said that things were alright with this man, he was willing to believe him.</p><p>"A friend. He funds the circus, when we are struggling and he helps me find... he's the source that told me about Kurt, you know that. I told you."</p><p>"You told me Chuck-" Erik began to reason, only for Logan to snarl again, glaring between them. He looked up at him as Logan tried to get his temper under control.</p><p>"Chuck is Charles," Logan explained. "He's on our side."</p><p>"Oh." Erik swallowed, feeling a sudden burst of guilt and anger inside of him - after all this time, he should have known. He had almost killed him, and then they would have lost a strong ally in their struggle. "I thought... from Stryker's notes-"</p><p>"I'm sorry, my friend." Charles moved closer, and Erik felt the barriers that had been placed within his mind by Charles fall away. "I did not mean to deceive you. Logan and I are old friends, and we work together to help mutants, and gifted as well when needed."</p><p>Erik nodded, aware now that he was able to leave - but fleeing no longer seemed the best plan. Charles was gazing at him curiously, his brilliant eyes bright with understanding. </p><p>"You saved Kurt, then?" Charles asked, and he seemed satisfied by Erik's answering nod. "Good. He is downstairs, and was asking for assistance in a problem. Another child needs to be rescued from Stryker, and I think perhaps we should resolve it together."</p><p>For a moment, Erik hesitated. "I left the notebook I stole from Stryker concealed in my lodgings. I need to fetch it. It will help, and then...then I can return, and we can see about helping whoever else Stryker is harming."</p><p>He could feel Charles's mind push against the wall in his own for a moment, before he seemed to calm, judging him. "If I let you go, you won't hunt me down to kill me?"</p><p>"Not if you don't give me a reason," Erik answered, walking out of the room, with Logan and Charles following close behind. He didn't know the layout of the house, but he could sense the heavy lock on the front door, and used that to guide him.</p><p>"Mister Erik!" Kurt appeared, teleporting over towards him. It had only been a short while since Erik had seen the boy last, but he was looking far healthier than before, a brightness to him that made Erik smile. "It is so good to see you again."</p><p>"And you, Kurt." Erik nodded. "How are you finding the circus?"</p><p>"It is a good place. A home. I have been looking after the boy like you said for me to." Kurt smiled proudly at that, his tail flicking from side to side. "I am glad you are here. Will you help me?"</p><p>Erik shrugged a little. "I dislike that creep. So yes, I suppose I will."</p><p>Kurt's toothy answering smile made him shake his head, fondness budding within him - the boy was good, far more good than the universe allowed for. </p><p>"I will fetch my notebook, and then return. It will not take more than an hour."</p><p>"Thank you, my friend." Charles's expression was as bright as Kurt's own. "I told you, did I not, that we would end up on the same team."</p><p>Erik had no answer to give to that. Instead, he chose to stride away, opening the front door. In the daylight, the mansion looked even more impressive.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please do comment! I hope you enjoy, and thank you to everyone who has commented so far.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Erik strode back into the entrance hall of the mansion, carrying with him the precious notebook he had stolen. It was full of data, of people who had been carrying out experiments on mutants, and those who had chosen to sell them to earn a few coins. It was a sickening document, but one that he knew would be of use. </p><p>Kurt waved an enthusiastic greeting, no sign of concern or fear on his face - he was simply delighted that Erik had returned. Charles, too, seemed more comforted than bothered by Erik's presence. Logan alone looked uncertain, and Erik wondered if they were heading towards another argument over his bloodthirstiness. </p><p>The younger children had been sent away to keep Charles's staff company, and the four of them sat around the table - Kurt curled a little in his seat as he tried to keep his tail at a comfortable angle. Logan seemed to have calmed from his earlier rage, but Kurt had still positioned himself as far as possible from him - leaving Charles between them, and an empty seat opposite Erik’s former captor. Erik sat and took out the notebook.</p><p>"Thank you for coming back to us, Erik. I had hoped you would, I know that you have so much you will be able to bring to us, so much you can help..." Charles said the words gently, as though he was merely heaping praise on someone who needed the reassurance. Such an act might have worked on the children he sheltered here, but it wouldn't work on Erik. Erik needed no one. Had never needed them.</p><p>"I want to get rid of Stryker. That's all. It doesn't mean I need you."</p><p>"We need to have a plan," Charles pointed out, and Logan drummed his fingers against the table. "I know, you don't want to wait, but we can't just go in there."</p><p>"She needs to feel safe," Kurt mumbled, his tail wiggling beside him. "Please."</p><p>"What are you going to do with her?" Erik asked. "Is she a human?"</p><p>"She's gifted. She can make illusions," Kurt answered. "She's good at it. Zey feel real, she... she let me feel zat I had escaped, showed me a cathedral... she is such a good girl, please."</p><p>"I can take her," Logan answered. "Girl with powers like that, she'd fit right in in my circus."</p><p>"Danke." Kurt's face lit up brightly, and Erik ignored the pain in his chest at the sheer hope that shone from the boy. He didn't understand how anyone could have seen so much darkness and still found good. He supposed that he himself simply wasn't strong enough - hope had left him long ago.</p><p>"I can go and find the girl," Erik offered. He knew that it might not work well, but he could fight at least. He wasn't the cowering child he'd been the last time he'd encountered Creed. "It won't be difficult, I already know the layout of the house from last time."</p><p>"Creed'll smell you," Logan answered, shaking his head. "And right now, you're high up on Creed's least favourite list of people. You wouldn't be safe."</p><p>"Whoever goes in there is risking their life. I'm willing to."</p><p>"Do you vant me?" Kurt asked, and there was concern visible in his expression, but he squared his narrow shoulders and lifted up his head. "I can use my power. Maybe... maybe we can get in and out before..."</p><p>"No," Erik told him bluntly. "I don't want you to go there, you'll freeze when you see Creed."</p><p>Kurt ducked his head, but didn't argue, and that made Erik even more certain he had made the right call there. Kurt simply wasn't cut out for that. Kurt was a kind, sweet boy, but faced with the man he feared he would fail. Erik was an adult, and the harm he had suffered at Shaw's hands was in the past now. But at the thought of encountering him... Erik's greatest fear was that when the time came, and he faced down his enemy, he would find himself trapped once more. </p><p>He could not ask such a thing of Kurt, and he knew in his heart that if Kurt tried, he would fail.</p><p>Kurt's tail twitched, and he wrapped his hand around the tip of it, trying to soothe himself. </p><p>"Whoever goes in won't come out," Logan said bluntly. "I'm willing to do what I can to protect her, but it's not going to mean anything."</p><p>"That's not good enough," Erik answered, anger blazing in his eyes. "We need to get the girl. If nothing else, she can help us."</p><p>"I can help," Charles interrupted. </p><p>"You don't like using your telepathy on humans," Logan pointed out, and suddenly Erik understood where he'd seen Charles before - during one of Shaw's little exhibitions, when he'd had Erik show off his powers for the entertainment of humans. He'd felt a mind brush his own - his first encounter with a telepath. Charles had tried to help him, had offered to get him out of there, and he'd been able to persuade him to keep his gift hidden. Apparently, that had worked a little too well - Charles had hidden his identity, seemed to forget what he actually was.</p><p>Erik frowned. He had hoped that the gifted youth he had met while he was still a child had gone on to succeed, but it was hard to make sense of his motivation. He'd gathered a few gifted, helped Logan. But he'd done it all from the shadows. More than that, when he'd been a child Charles had been standing. Erik wasn't sure what had changed, didn't want to ask. </p><p>"I don't need to use my telepathy to solve this," Charles explained with a smile, and Erik's attention turned to him, as did Logan's. Kurt smiled at him encouragingly, eyes sparkling with trust as Charles continued. </p><p>***</p><p>Charles could feel the irritation coming off of Logan - both that he had managed to accidentally kidnap someone Logan knew, and because he was reluctant to get involved. But Logan was right - if a child was in danger with Stryker, it made sense to rescue her. Using his ability was likely to leave a sign, a scar. But there were alternatives. </p><p>"I can invite Stryker here, to talk about Scott... I dislike the idea, but I can make sure he and Creed pose no threat to the children while they are here - at least, as long as Creed has no reason to be angry. And while they are here, the two of you can go and get the girl to safety. He'll come back to find his daughter missing - and Creed might know you took him. But so far they haven’t been able to challenge your circus outright, and if you leave no evidence..."</p><p>Charles could feel the moment Logan conceded the point, the frustration he had held before melting to acceptance. With Creed and Stryker out of the way, rescuing the child was simple enough.</p><p>Kurt's eyes brightened. "Shall I go with you?"</p><p>"I think you'd be better off stayin' in the circus, bub. Need someone to keep an eye on the rest of them, right? Plus you can get things set up. Me and Hank been talking about another kid, we can look after her at first anyway." Logan snorted. "Bet that'd make that bastard furious, his little child being well taken care of by the kind of person he hates..." Logan grinned. "Plus if the entire plan falls apart, I don't want to have to get you out of there as well. I'll get Azazel to teleport me."</p><p>"Perfect," Charles reassured, and he felt a sense of contentment settle over him. "I'll arrange for a meeting with Stryker when I can, and we can head from there onwards."</p><p>"What about me?" Erik asked, staring around at them. "What's your plan for me?"</p><p>"Where do you feel you fit in?" Charles asked. "I mean, if Creed will be at ours, there's a risk in having you present."</p><p>"He'll smell me anyway." Erik shrugged. "I would like to be there, during the meal. I'm sure I can rile them up a little..." Charles felt the moment something sparked in Erik's mind, before he turned to Charles curiously. "I have a favour to ask of you."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>"I want you to see if you can look for information in Stryker's mind. Not change anything, but find me more targets." The look in Erik's eyes grew cold. "More monsters I can cleanse from the world."</p><p>"I'm not helping you hunt down scientists simply for being scientists."</p><p>"I don't ask you to. I want you to let me hunt down monsters, simply for being monsters. And if that is not enough, if you still have some misplaced sense of guilt or protection for them... perhaps I can persuade you to hunt down a single individual."</p><p>Charles knew who it was before Erik continued. The man who had smiled so broadly at the audience, a fatherly hand on Erik's shoulder as he'd instructed him, forced him to show off his ability, and then tortured him when he'd fought back. His gaze drifted to Erik's twisted hand - he'd been there, the night it happened. When the scientist had slammed a metal spike through it without pausing for breath.</p><p>"Shaw?"</p><p>Erik nodded in silence.</p><p>"I'll do what I can."</p><p>***</p><p>Erik waited, the next couple of days, in Charles's home. He'd been used to bedding down in any number of lodging houses and rooms over his life, sometimes hiding out of the way in the attic or unused stables of targets. He would survive being close to Charles.</p><p>It gave him the chance to observe Charles. To see how he treated the children, when they were alone and without Logan's presence. He was ready to fight. To change his views. And yet... Charles seemed very much to treat the children with kindness. Scott may have been blindfolded, but Charles spoke to him carefully, and never hurt him, and young Jean seemed content to spend her time pulling him around the house by the hand, calling out instruction and talking to him. Slowly, Erik felt the tension that had haunted him lift, his anger calming a little - Charles was doing well here, whether he liked it or not.</p><p>Erik allowed Jean to show him around, a task which she treated with the same enthusiasm as she had for leading Scott. She showed him the library - where his attention was drawn to a large wooden chess set, the pieces embedded with detailing in silver and copper - the kitchens, the servants quarters, stables which had been empty for a long time, and the vast gardens. His initial impression was clearly right - they had been maintained, but not well-cared for.</p><p>Charles wheeled into the library on the evening of the second day of Erik's visit (not including the time he had spent as a prisoner), to find that he had settled on the windowsill reading a book. Charles initially ignored him, pausing by the low chessboard, noticing that Erik had moved a piece forwards. With a smile, he moved his own. </p><p>Erik concentrated, using the metal embedded in the pieces to work out what had happened, and continuing to read whilst he edged a piece forwards again.</p><p>In silence, the two of them played, Erik's book lying forgotten on his lap. It was easy enough with his ability to see all the pieces laid out - the kind of task Shaw had asked of him as a child, and he was able to practice, to move each piece in turn. He triumphantly floated a few of Charles's pieces off the board, before Charles's queen managed to get him into check. With a flick of a finger, he lay down his king, and returned to his book.</p><p>"Well played," Charles said softly, wheeling over to stop before him. "I didn't know you played chess."</p><p>"Shaw thought it made a good parlour trick. Having me hide elsewhere, and win games against his friends. Of course, it wasn’t such a good show if I lost..." For a moment he was lost in memories, and it was only with effort that he wrenched himself back to the present. Erik's gaze settled on his hands, and he realised he was rubbing at his old injury again. He swallowed and took a deep breath, plastering a false smile on his face. </p><p>"I'm sorry," Charles murmured, reaching out towards the old wound. Erik nearly jerked away when Charles took hold of his hand, two strong thumbs massaging over the twisted muscle. It took a moment, but he felt the pain lift a little. He raised an eyebrow, looking at Charles coldly.</p><p>Charles shrugged his shoulders, moving his hands away again. "It clearly causes you pain. After I was injured... one of the few kindnesses my mother bestowed on me was having someone manipulate the muscle to stop the pain. Initially it was... quite unbearable at times. I've seen how you fuss with your hand sometimes - it clearly causes you discomfort. I thought... well, I know it was forwards of me. But I disliked seeing you in such obvious pain when it was within my power to relieve it."</p><p>Charles's smile was like sunshine, and Erik blocked it from his heart. He knew he would never know a life free from pain until he was sure that Shaw was gone. "Find the information I want, and you'll relieve this pain."</p><p>That removed that foolish sunshine smile from Charles's lips, but he nodded. "I've received word from Stryker that he will be able to visit us tomorrow evening. I've already let Logan know."</p><p>Erik nodded. He was tempted to ask Charles for another game, but he held himself back - his life didn't allow for friendships or attachments. He'd made that decision for himself, when he'd found a way to escape, when he had chosen freedom. All that mattered was removing monsters from the world.</p><p>Charles settled by the fireplace, and Erik left, returning to the bedroom that he had been imprisoned in. Charles had offered him other places to sleep, but he thought accepting it might let Charles think he was staying. He wasn't. This was all temporary.</p><p>That night, his dreams were haunted by memories. Of Shaw, of the monsters he hadn't been able to stop. Of the state Kurt had been in when he found him, curled up and so painfully close to death. Of the nightmares he hadn't ended.</p><p>He woke and visited the kitchen, making some preparations before he went to the gardens, spending some time working on a few of the beds near the house. His clothing became filthy, but it distracted him from the worst of his memories.</p><p><i>Erik, Stryker is due here soon. Would you prepare for dinner? I've had Alex draw you a bath.</i> Charles's thoughts entered his own. And Erik went to bathe, feeling almost like some ritual sacrifice. It didn't help that Charles, in a misplaced attempt at kindness, had had the water scented with some kind of flower oils. He washed in it anyway, because he needed to be clean, combed and oiled his hair and dressed in a waistcoat that Charles had found, and his own tailcoat, before tying his cravat in a simple knot which he had learned to do, using his damaged hand to pin the fabric in place. Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he headed down to where Charles was waiting. </p><p>Charles's waistcoat brought out the colour of his eyes. Erik felt a faint flare of annoyance that he had even noticed that, turning his attention to the others present. Jean and Scott were both there as well, the girl wearing a pale blue dress with a ribbon. She smiled up at him and waved.</p><p>"You look very handsome," she told him determinedly, and he nodded at her, reaching out to tuck a strand of her fiery hair back behind her ear. </p><p>There was a knock on the door, and Erik straightened, his mind focusing on business - these were the men he had cheated out of their victim, and there was a chance Creed would attack him on sight. (In preparation for such an event, he had concealed some forks and spoons within the vicinity of the front door). It was Alex, formally dressed, who opened the door, bowing a greeting to William Stryker who stood there alone.</p><p>Stryker's gaze settled on Erik, first curiously, and then as his attention drifted down to Erik's hand, amusement settled on him. "Ah. Erik. I had wondered what became of you... Charles, you must know, I was lucky enough to have Erik under my control when he was younger, before selling him off to a Prussian gentleman..."</p><p>Erik knew that Stryker thinking about Shaw was exactly what he wanted. But there was something about the entire scenario that made him feel a little sickened. He tried to smile, as Charles led Stryker deeper into the house.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all! Quite a short chapter this time, but there is another one coming on Wednesday. If you've enjoyed please do leave a review, they make me so happy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan squeezed Hank's hand, glancing over at Laura. "I'll be back soon. With her."</p><p>"I know you will," Hank agreed, a faint smile on his lips as Laura embraced him around the waist, giggling. She was excited at the thought of having a new sister to take care of. </p><p>Logan picked his daughter up and spun her round. "You be good for your dad while I'm gone?"</p><p>"I'm always good, Papa." Laura grinned at him, doing a curtsey like she was on stage. He ruffled her hair affectionately, before turning back to Hank.</p><p>"It won't be too long."</p><p>"I know," Hank agreed. "You just be careful, alright?"</p><p>"Always am." Logan winked, kissing Hank for a moment, then striding over to check on the nearest caravan. Mortimer was sleeping in a dark corner, a blanket over him - he'd spent much of the day helping out with various tasks and was clearly exhausted, so he was grabbing a brief nap before this evening's show. Kurt was sat up in his hammock, his rosary in his hands and his head bowed.</p><p>"Is everything well, Mister Logan?" Kurt asked. "I vill be waiting for her to come here. We vill do all we can to make sure she is happy."</p><p>"I'm sure you will. You're good kids. Now, I won't be gone too long, just make sure no one misses their cues for tonight's performance."</p><p>Kurt nodded and waved. "I vas vondering... perhaps I could hand out some of the tickets? If zat would be alright?" </p><p>"I think that would be good, if you feel up to it. Glob's doing it tonight, go talk to him."</p><p>Kurt nodded again, that brilliant smile on his face, and Logan walked off, shaking his head fondly. The boy was going to be the star of the show, as soon as he got his confidence up to a point where he felt able to step forwards and awe the crowds the way that he was born to.</p><p>That thought made Logan smile as he approached Azazel's caravan. Azazel looked up at him, his tail swishing from side to side. </p><p>"All good?" Logan asked.</p><p>"Just tired," Azazel answered. Looking at him, Logan could see the truth of that statement - the devilish man had dark circles beneath his eyes and looked as though he hadn't rested in a long time. </p><p>"Sorry. Just a return trip, and then you can take a couple of days off," Logan offered. He didn't like to overwork the mutants he employed. He wanted to make sure that they had good lives. He knew he asked a lot of Azazel, but was still startled by how tired he looked. </p><p>"Thank you," Azazel muttered. "Look, let's just get this over with."</p><p>Logan brushed off Azazel's temper - he knew the other man found it tiring to move long distances, and he had asked him for a few jumps recently. Still, he hoped that after this was resolved, he wouldn't need to think about it for a while. "Sounds good to me, bub." He thrust out his hand towards Azazel.</p><p>Long red fingers fastened around his own, and the world disappeared in a puff of smoke.</p><p>During his time as Stryker's prisoner, pet and experiment, Logan had never stepped foot inside his house. He had been taken to the labs while unconscious, heaved by the strength of his brother, or dragged around for tests. But mostly he had been caged up in the circus.</p><p>Now, seeing the house from the outside, he felt a chill run down his spine. He could smell that Stryker had been here, and Creed too, and the smell set his teeth on edge. His claws pressed at his hands, and he could feel the desire to release the blades almost overwhelming him, to slash out and to hurt, to harm, to stop... he held himself back.</p><p>He'd come here with a purpose. He was meant to be rescuing Stryker's kid. </p><p>Azazel stood beside him.</p><p>"Stay close."</p><p>"As you wish," Azazel agreed and stepped back, leaving him to approach the house alone. </p><p>Logan could feel himself shaking as he stumbled towards it, but he forced his way past his fear. Creed and Stryker were elsewhere, and Charles and Erik were playing bait. This was his chance to tell them the days of them messing around with his life were long gone. This was his opportunity to send a message, loud and clear. He extended his claws, lashing out at an ornamental stone vase, leaving deep cuts within it. With a sense of satisfaction, he sheathed them again and kept walking up towards the house.</p><p>There was no way Stryker would be able to ignore that message. Logan had been here. Logan had taken the child, and now Stryker could keep hiding in the shadows, but he'd know that Logan had won. </p><p>Logan glanced behind him, but couldn't make Azazel out under the shadow of the trees. He squared his shoulders and tried the door. Locked, but easy enough to cut through, to force the lock, to push his way inside.</p><p>He stepped into the hall. It was tidy, that was the first thing he noticed, and everything was immaculate - no dust or dirt, no signs of life. There were imposing paintings glaring down from the walls, and Logan was tempted to tear into them. But that wasn't the point of being here.</p><p>He sniffed the air. He could tell Creed and Stryker had been there recently, but the scents were a few hours old. His footsteps seemed to echo strangely as he walked down the hallway, trying to scent the child, hoping that he wouldn't need to venture into the basement - both for what it implied about the child's treatment, and because he knew he would be happy if he never again had to step foot in that hell.</p><p>There was a scent of a child, alongside other smells - those of life, and of death. Some food had rotted in the kitchen. There was meat curing in the pantry, fresh flowers in a vase, and underneath it all a sickening smell. He could still sense where Kurt had been held prisoner - the boy had been ill with fever, and that scent lingered even when Kurt himself was long gone.</p><p>Logan focused, and as he continued to walk the scents he could smell seemed to narrow down to a single scent, a single child. He let that draw his attention, letting it lead him up into the higher rooms of the house. He walked past a nursery, which lay near empty, its walls a washed out yellow with cobwebs in the corners, an old cot pushed to one side and covered in a blanket. He paused at a wooden door, then pushed it open.</p><p>There was a little girl sitting on the bed, dressed in a white nightdress, soft brown curls falling to her shoulders. She looked up at Logan nervously, and he spotted that her eyes were two different colours - one bright blue, the other a soft brown. She wiped at her face, blinking back tears.</p><p>"Hey," Logan greeted her, as gently as he could - he'd come here to rescue the girl, not terrify her. It took her a few moments, but she seemed to calm down and looked up at him. </p><p>"Are you here to rescue me?"</p><p>"I am," Logan confirmed. She got to her feet, looking around, and then picked up a small toy soldier from under her pillow. She clutched it to her chest. </p><p>"Come along, Rosie..."</p><p>"Your drummer's called Rosie?"</p><p>"She is," The girl answered. "I'm not meant to have any dolls, but... Rosie's a secret. Like me."</p><p>Logan nodded, crouching down and pulling a bright silk handkerchief from his pocket. “Do you know what I think? I think Rosie might like a pretty dress, don’t you think so?”</p><p>The girl looked at him carefully, her eyes wide and unsure. He shrugged his shoulders, flicking the fabric out to brush it against her hand. It took a moment more before she nodded.</p><p>Logan smiled up at her, holding his hand out for the doll. "Can I hold her for a moment?"</p><p>The girl handed the toy over, and carefully Logan fashioned a dress for her using his handkerchief. The girl giggled softly in innocent delight, holding her in her hands as she skipped along beside him.</p><p>"What's your name, little miss?"</p><p>"J...Jace..." the girl mumbled. </p><p>"Okay, come on now. You're safe now." Logan kept her close, sniffing the air for any sign of a threat as they walked through the nursery. There were dolls and other toys lining the vivid blue walls. Logan felt a thought catch in his mind, but a moment later it was gone, and he continued to walk with the girl, back out of the house.</p><p>She was very quiet at his side, her forehead screwed up as though she was concentrating very hard on something. She bit her own lip as she walked.</p><p>It was strange. Logan hadn't registered before just how friendly the house felt. His past memories were hard to square with the landscapes on the wall. He kept sniffing the air, but all he could sense was Jace beside him.</p><p>He lifted her up when they got to the threshold, because her feet were bare, and he didn't want to waste time. She wasn't much taller than Laura was when he lifted her, maybe a year or two older, maybe three if she was underweight. The top of her head brushed against his face and for a moment short stubble tickled his chin.</p><p>He glanced down at her curls, and she looked up at him, mismatched eyes wide with emotion. </p><p>"Am I in trouble?"</p><p>"You're not in any trouble, princess. Come on, you're going to go home with me. You're going to have a little sister, and a papa and a dad that care about you. And Kurt will be there."</p><p>That made her smile, even if it looked strange - a little sad, somehow, a smile that didn't meet her eyes. "Oh... I liked Kurt. He was always very nice to me. He would listen, and call me nice names, and he ... he told me one day we would be free."</p><p>"Well, he was right, wasn't he?" Logan encouraged. There was something about the entire situation that felt off, in a way he couldn't quite explain.</p><p>The girl nodded, cuddling close against him, and even though she looked like she wasn't crying, Logan could feel one of her tears brushing against his neck. He shushed her softly, carrying her along. "It's alright, we'll be out of here soon..." He headed back to the trees where he had last seen Azazel.</p><p>Azazel was waiting, leaning against a tree-trunk. He looked even more tired than he had before, and something there was off as well - but as Logan's thoughts tried to reach out towards it, it was snatched away. Instead he was aware of how Jace fitted in his arms. He knew that he and Hank hadn't really talked about it - but he was sure they would work it out. This girl was clearly in desperate need of some kindness.</p><p>"You got her?" Azazel asked. "You want me to take her first?"</p><p>Jace's hands curled up against him, clutching him closer than before, and Logan shushed her gently, able to tell that she didn't want him to put her down. "You're alright, princess. Just hold on, I won't let you go." </p><p>Her face pressed closer against his throat, seeking whatever comfort she could, and he adjusted her in his arms. "Think you can manage both of us, Azazel? The little lady doesn't want to let go."</p><p>Azazel nodded and reached out for him, one hand on Jace's back while the other gripped Logan's arm. There was the smoke, the smell of it, but for once it seemed to linger in the air as Azazel took a step back. Logan sniffed, frowning as he realised what was striking him as wrong with the situation - he could smell Creed, lingering in the air. It was strange, he hadn't noticed when he had first found Jace just how strong the smell was, but now it was obvious. He remembered what Kurt had told him - she was an illusionist. She could hide it if she wanted to, but now she was calmer... He rubbed her back as Azazel turned and walked away.</p><p>Everything felt strange, quiet, and the smoke of Azazel's teleportation lingered in the air as Jace squeezed his shoulders. He carried her as gently as he could, wanting to make sure she was comfortable.</p><p>He wondered why no one else was about. Although it was dark, it wasn't late, and the circus was always bustling - some of their number felt more comfortable in the dark, and others among them preferred early mornings, which meant that it was rare that no one was about. Yet for now, it seemed still, quiet. </p><p>"How are you feeling, princess?"</p><p>"Tired," she answered, and there was a look of complete concentration on her face, like Laura had when she was trying to learn a new trick. "Sorry..." she mumbled, hiding against him.</p><p>Even now, here, the smell of smoke lingered, and so did the scent of his brother. Logan looked at the little girl in his arms and pushed those concerns aside. It could wait. What mattered now was getting her comfortable.</p><p>He looked back over his shoulder, but Azazel wasn't anywhere to be seen. It was just him and Jace. Normally, he would have taken a new member of the circus to meet people, tried to encourage them. But it was late, and the girl in his arms was exhausted. He rocked her gently. "You're tired, huh? It's okay. You don't need to be afraid any more."</p><p>Jace didn't answer, just pressed her face against him once more. He was reminded of Laura as an infant, desperately seeking any comfort she could find. He shivered a little, wondering if Jace had a mother, or if she had simply been created to fulfil Stryker's curiosity. </p><p>"You're safe now, princess."</p><p>Her mismatched eyes looked up at him, and it didn't feel like she believed him.</p><p>***</p><p>Erik had known that accepting the offer to dinner would be unpleasant at best. He had gone along to support the children, to learn more about Charles and to discover if there was another side to the man's schemes. </p><p>In his mind, Stryker had never been the true enemy. He was an unpleasant, vile monster, who wished to make use of mutants only for his own ends, to hurt them and shape them into his own tools. </p><p>In that he was no different from a dozen other humans that Erik had known across the course of his short life, humans who seemed to delight in causing pain for those who were unable to fight back. A monster, but just one amongst a multitude of monsters. It was Shaw who turned barbarism into finesse, reshaping Erik utterly in his own form. In Erik's nightmares, it was Shaw's face he saw.</p><p>Yet now, sitting opposite his childhood tormentor, Stryker too seemed unnerving, almost uncanny. It felt as though there was a joke being played, and that Erik would be on the  receiving end of it. The air was thick with tension, the kind that came when someone had set up a trap and was waiting for the chance to snap it closed.</p><p>If Charles got the same impression, he was doing a far finer job of hiding it, engaging in cheerful discussion with the human, making him laugh. Friends, who occasionally competed over business propositions - that was how Charles had described his interactions with Stryker. And it certainly felt friendly enough. Erik reminded himself of the fact that soon the girl would be safe, that distracting Stryker was valuable. And yet something still caught.</p><p>"So where is your bodyguard today? I didn't think you went anywhere without him," Charles was asking, and Erik tried not to tense or let any concern show. He needed to act neutrally, not give Stryker any reason to be suspicious.</p><p>Stryker shook his head. "I gave him the night off. I thought it was probably better that he didn't come here, since you have children, and he needed some time off. It's a shame, if I'd known that Erik was here I would have brought him. It must have been years since those two saw each other..." There was a teasing note of amusement in his voice.</p><p>Erik felt Charles's mind brush his own, a silent reassurance, not trying to push through the shields, but simply ensuring he wasn't alone. That at least was a comfort.</p><p>"What about you, Charles? I didn't bring Creed, given I don't think there's anything you could do to harm me, but I know from past experience Erik can be a little...vicious. I had him working with the Wolverine, and well... I fear he's picked up some bad habits. I would so hate for you to get yourself hurt badly now after all the mess you've already been through."</p><p>"I can control my friends," Charles said, and if he'd been hurt by Stryker's words he hid it well. "I'm not afraid of Erik in the least, I know where his loyalties lie."</p><p>Stryker shrugged a little. "Well, I'd say that it will be your funeral, but you've already proved yourself mighty good at not dying."</p><p>"So far, I have a complete success rate," Charles said calmly. "Now, I know you were interested in Scott here, but he is proving wonderful as an aid to my own research and a good companion to my little girl - so I do hope you have no lingering regrets."</p><p>"Water under the bridge, Doctor Xavier. It doesn't bother me in the least." Stryker laughed a little, at a private joke, and the noise made the hair on the back of Erik's neck stand up. He knew he didn't feel comfortable facing the man again after so many years, but he felt like it was something more - something he couldn't put into words. </p><p>It felt like all the times when Shaw would give him an option, knowing he would choose the wrong one. </p><p>Erik concentrated, reaching out for the sensation of Charles's mind once more. </p><p>
  <i>What is it, Erik? I'm looking for information he holds about Shaw, can this wait?</i>
</p><p><i>No.</i> Erik was certain about that now. <i>Does he know that this is a trap?</i></p><p>A brief frown passed across Charles's face, before his eyes widened a little. When Charles's thoughts next brushed Erik's own, they were tinged with concern. <i>He knows it's a trap.</i></p><p>Erik felt as though a leaden weight had settled in his stomach. Stryker had known, somehow, all that they had planned. And Logan, Stryker's prize research subject, had headed into his home, unprepared and alone. Creed was unaccounted for. That alone made Erik feel awfully sick. He should never have let Logan go alone. <i>What do we do?</i></p><p>Charles raised a hand, putting his fingers against the side of his head. <i>We need to see what we can find out. I'll see what I can gather... I must admit, the thoughts of this man are rather unpleasant.</i></p><p>Erik considered, briefly, what being a telepath would be like. He didn't enjoy the considerations it raised, the idea of what might be overheard. What you might hear as you walked along a busy street, the secrets that your existence might uncover. But that was a thought to linger on another time. For now, his focus was on the meal. Stryker wasn't meant to understand that anything out of the ordinary was going on. The plan was for him to be unsuspecting until he returned home to find his child absent. But he knew.</p><p>He knew, and for now they had no option but to continue the charade, and hopefully buy Logan time to get the child out. Logan couldn't be killed. Erik knew that, memories rising unbidden from the darkness of his mind. He could picture Logan screaming and fighting as metal was forced beneath his skin, Shaw with an indulgent smile on his lips, one hand resting on Erik's shoulder.</p><p><i>Please, Erik, can you not think of that.</i> Charles's mind brushed his, and there was an edge of desperation there. </p><p>Erik nodded in silent agreement, trying to think of more peaceful thoughts. He was so focused on that that he almost missed the way Stryker kept glancing at his pocket watch.</p><p>A loud crack, like the sound of a whip, cut through the air, and there was the sense of a figure, and then red smoke. By the time Erik had realised what was happening, Stryker was gone.</p><p>***</p><p>Logan ran a firm hand over Jace's hair. He could feel the way it was cropped short, even though his eyes told him that it was beautifully curled down to her shoulders. He didn't question it, just shushed her and held her close.</p><p>Her eyes fluttered shut, and he wondered when she had last rested - she was clearly exhausted, and he understood she was used to feeling afraid. He wanted to chase all that fear away, to shake off the terror that her life had been before. But he couldn't offer her much. </p><p>It was strange that even when he reached his own caravan, it was empty - he could smell Jace, but not Hank or Laura. He looked at the little girl, carrying her over to Laura's bed and tucking her in, with as much gentleness as he could manage. Tender touches didn't come easily to him, but he could see she was close to crying, knew she deserved kindness. "You should get some rest, princess. Rosie too."</p><p>Jace looked at him uncertainly, so he patted the pillow beside her head. "You could put her there, and I'll tuck you both in."</p><p>Jace obeyed, uncertainty on her face, and it was strange - Logan kept feeling like thoughts were being stolen, snatched away, but he couldn't worry because those worries disappeared between one breath and the next. Logan concentrated on making sure the girl was comfortable, tucking the blanket in around her and humming softly.</p><p>She blinked up at him. "You sing?"</p><p>"A little," he answered, humming an old lullaby that he sang to Laura. It wasn't one he'd known when he was young - he tried not to linger on that. But it was a song that Erik had sung to himself, when he'd first arrived at the circus, young and afraid and needing comfort. Logan had learned that tune to help him, and now he sang it for the girl.</p><p>Jace was shattered, exhausted by her efforts, and she snuggled down deeper into the blankets. Logan stayed settled by her side, to make sure she was safe. He was sure there was somewhere else he should be, something else he was meant to be doing, but he couldn't work it out. Rescuing Jace was important. He'd taken her to safety. It was alright now. It was good.</p><p>He watched Jace closely as her breathing evened out. He knew the moment she had relaxed into sleep - the scent of her faded, and in its place he could smell fear, and fire, and blood. Looking at the girl on the bed, he saw the bruising on her face, how thin she was and how her hair had been cropped back to almost nothing.</p><p>He growled, and her eyes snapped open, the illusion repaired. He could feel the scents fading as well.</p><p>He closed his eyes for a moment. He couldn't trust his sight, but his other senses were useful. He could smell smoke - not Azazel's sulphurous flames, but charred wood. He could hear the fire as well. And in the room, closer - he could smell Jace, but he could also smell that Hank had been here and afraid. And so had Laura. He focused, terrified, searching for any hint of their blood. There was none.</p><p>His eyes snapped open, and he saw a scratch across the wall - five lines running in parallel to each other. </p><p>Little Jace was awake, back to her uninjured form, but with her knees drawn to her chest. She was sobbing. "I'm sorry," she whispered into her knees. "He said I had to."</p><p>Despite the terror gripping him, Logan felt a swell of pity for the child. He looked down at her. "Stop it. No more illusions on me, alright? I'm going to get us both out of here."</p><p>She nodded, and her form changed. She was still shivering desperately, and Logan wrapped the blanket about her shoulders, trying to provide some comfort. </p><p>He could smell that Creed was nearby. He could fight, but Jace couldn't. "Get under the bed, princess. If a fight breaks out, you need to hide."</p><p>She nodded, scrambling back into the recess beneath Laura's bed, kicking out various other things - Hank's books, Laura's toys. Logan passed her her doll. "You stay hidden until I tell you to run or you hear silence, okay?" </p><p>He couldn't hear any screaming, not nearby - maybe some in the distance. He had plans, had always made sure there were backups in case the time came when he was attacked, but he wasn't sure what would happen. He kept looking at that mark on the wall, and hoping that his lover and daughter got out.</p><p>Long jagged fingernails tapped on the door to his caravan, before they scraped across the wood. Logan stepped forwards, allowing his own claws to emerge. He could smell Creed's amusement, hear the sound of the other man's laughter. He fought back the memories. This wasn't the time.</p><p>He could smell the salt of Jace's tears.</p><p>"Look, Jace, princess? This isn't your fault."</p><p>He wasn't sure who would survive the fight, painfully aware that the girl might be in the last minutes of her life. He wasn't going to let her feel like she was to blame. She deserved better than that.</p><p>The door to the caravan slammed open, and Creed smirked at him, waving one clawed hand in greeting. His clothes were covered in soot and blood.</p><p>Logan snarled, stepping forwards, knowing he needed to move Creed away from where Jason was hiding. Creed's smirk just grew wider.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you! Next update on Sunday, hope everyone is having a good month. Please do comment if you're enjoying this, it means so much to me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for violence and abuse references in this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charles couldn't help the sense of panic pervading him - not helped by the way Erik was pacing around the room, frantic. Erik was afraid, and his fear was loud, raw, almost deafening. Charles was glad he had sent the children to prepare for bed immediately after Stryker's disappearance - he didn't want Jean to be exposed to this level of anger and terror.</p><p>"Erik, I need you to calm down."</p><p>"That was Azazel," Erik snapped. "He's Logan's friend, if he... Logan walked into a trap." He could hear the fear behind it, the concern that somehow this was all a game being played by the monster that loomed large in Erik's memories, a silent threat - a promise that he was trapped. Erik had thought they were making progress, that they were in control, and yet this seemed to prove the opposite. He was picturing Shaw, aware of what he had caused, watching as all the pieces fell into place. He was thinking of Kurt, of the state he'd been when he was found, of the strange frog-boy he'd found injured, of what Shaw would do to Jean and to Scott.</p><p>"Erik, I need you to stop that, please. You're projecting," Charles tried to reason with the other man, aware of the irony of it - previously, the problem had been that he couldn't breach Erik's telepathic walls, but the man's fear now meant that he was almost shouting out his terror, crowding out the part of Charles that was trying to approach things rationally. </p><p>Erik's eyes snapped to him, and he could feel the sheer panic that was filling him - but he could also feel the moment Erik got himself back under control, his breathing evening out, his eyes closing for a few moments and then opening with calmness in them. The calmness was barely there, a fragile desperate thing, but he was managing to wall off his terror - it would be dealt with later.</p><p>"Thank you," Charles told him, because he knew that it wasn't easy for him to do that, to push back such overwhelming terror and focus on the here and now. But that was what he needed to do, if the two of them were going to be able to take control of this. "You know who took Stryker?"</p><p>"A man named Azazel. A mutant teleporter. Logan uses him for transport often, gets him to move him to visit people. He doesn't look human, so he tends to stay in the shadows."</p><p>"You've known him for long?"</p><p>"Not long." Erik's smile grew bitter, and Charles felt the pain that bubbled within him as he answered. "Stryker gained him when he sold me. A little research swap between him and... and Shaw." </p><p>The reason for Erik's terror was even clearer now - if Azazel was working for Stryker, what was to stop him working for Shaw as well? Erik simply couldn't comprehend why any mutant would side with the scientists, with the oppressors. Charles knew that Erik was uncomfortable with his own interest in science, feeling that it was a threat. But that was nothing in comparison to choosing to betray your own kind.</p><p>After all, Charles was gifted. In the eyes of most of the population, that meant he and mutants had almost nothing in common. But Azazel - Charles hadn't had a good look at him, but what little he had seen was clear proof that the other man was a mutant who could never fit within human society.</p><p>"Alright. So this was a trap." Charles kept his voice as calm as he could. "Stryker came here tonight knowing what we had planned. Why?" Charles hoped that if nothing else, talking it through would help Erik, enable him to apply some logic to the situation. His plan was rewarded after a few moments when Erik nodded, his gaze sharpening.</p><p>"He came here so that we would send Logan away - if he hadn't shown up, there's a chance we would have warned Logan off. He was relying on us to not question Creed's absence," Erik answered, and Charles could see that a fork on the table was repeatedly bending and unbending, twisting around as Erik's anxiety animated it. Aside from that fork though, he looked calm. It was almost believable. </p><p>"Alright. So he wants Creed to ambush Logan?"</p><p>"Get rid of Logan. Logan's the strongest person in the circus, he's the one who got them free, he's the leader. If he wasn't there... Stryker would be able to claim it once more, and there's very little that would stand in his way. Hank might try and stop him but… he'd put him in a cage again," Erik reasoned. The fork had split into small metal spheres, floating above the table.</p><p>There was an awful logic to that. Logan had taken the lead on freeing them, on running the circus, and was close enough to human in appearance to give them a veneer of respectability. </p><p>"So we warn Logan?" Charles asked, and Erik gazed at him with sorrowful eyes.</p><p>"It's too late." There was so much guilt and pain in that sentence. "Logan's already been ambushed. If Stryker wanted to set Creed on him... maybe he'll heal after the fight, but there's nothing that we can do now. No way that we can help him. I should have known it was a trap." Erik looked broken. As though he had failed. As though he was helpless. And Charles felt anger spark at the world for giving Erik the idea he had been the one to let this happen.</p><p>"Logan heals from wounds. This entire night was a distraction, but... we've got a chance." Charles turned to Erik. "I need you to go to the circus. I'm going to need you to do this, because I can't." His chair would just get stuck - he knew he'd be a liability in the churning mud. But Erik was a skilled fighter, had killed many humans. "It might be too late to save Logan, but you can save some of the others there."</p><p>"How could I even get there, Charles?" Erik's voice dripped with self-hatred and reproach. </p><p>"I know a girl in the next village. She lives on a farm, with her brother, but they used to work with Logan. She can take you there." Charles scrambled for some paper, writing down a short message. "Give her this, then send her to safety. One of Logan's mutants is a girl who uses the stage name Blink. Get her to take anyone they can here. I'll have Darwin and Alex make up rooms, prepare some food... We'll save those we can."</p><p>Charles set out his plan, trying to combat the nausea whirling inside of him. He and Logan disagreed a lot about what to do for mutants, about the paths that their lives should take, about what was right, what mattered - but Logan was a friend, and Charles trusted him. His loss would be devastating for the mutant community. But losing the circus, what it stood for, would be worse. He finished his note and thrust it into Erik's hand, pushing forwards an image of where the girl lived and her appearance. "Go now. Do what you can. I'll be waiting."</p><p>Erik took off running, following the directions he had handed him. Charles watched him retreat, cursing the fact that he couldn't be with him, that right now there was danger beckoning and he couldn't help.</p><p>Azazel was a threat. Charles knew there was nothing to stop him from appearing here, taking anyone they wanted.</p><p>The notebook that Erik had stolen contained information about experiments that Stryker had conducted on Kurt. Charles grabbed the notebook, flicking through it, resisting the sickness that bubbled inside of him at the cruelties written within. A thin framing of copper wire, filled with a mild magnetic or electric current, appeared to limit the ability of a teleporter. They could work with that.</p><p>Charles gave instructions to Alex and Darwin and called Jean and Scott to him. If nothing else, he would keep his children as safe as he could, while he waited for what came next. He was a powerful telepath, but he knew he'd been tricked, and at that moment he felt powerless. He'd sent Erik into danger alone, and there was nothing he could do to assist him.</p><p>***</p><p>Kurt had started to relax a little since arriving at the circus. He'd helped sell a few tickets to human customers for the show that afternoon, and as they all traipsed out he had teleported up onto the top of the big tent. It felt good, to be so high up, to know that he was safe from any danger, high enough to keep away from whatever harms could come below.</p><p>Having his teleportation back, after it had been stolen for so long, was a gift, and one he was determined not to let slip away. This was his freedom, his home. He had a role to play in the performances, but beyond that, he had somewhere he belonged. And more than that, he knew that soon Jace would be rescued.</p><p>It had been frightening, going with Logan to meet Charles and planning what would be done. But Erik had been a great comfort. Gazing up at the darkening sky, Kurt whispered a prayer for all those who had helped him, for Jason's safety, and for Creed to find happiness rather than the anger and violence that drove him. That done, he looked down at the circus. Mortimer was helping peel some carrots for dinner, and Laura was running around with a few other younger mutants. He felt a sense of contentment settle over him. This was peace. It had been a long time since he had known any peace, but now here it was, real and solid and made of hope that he could not easily put into words. </p><p>He knew he would need to see what he could do to help with dinner soon, but he allowed himself a few more moments of peace, allowed himself to relax. Soon Jace would be here, and he was sure that she would find the same happiness that he did in this place - that she would find the freedom and love that she should have been able to know since her birth.</p><p>He did find it strange - how many of the adults he knew were caught up in their own memories and fears and assumed that what they feared defined them - the way that Erik thought he was heartless, that Logan feared he was like Creed when the two men could not have been more dissimilar. Still, Kurt had hope that in time they would come to see themselves as they really were, rather than being caught within the curse of haunting memories. </p><p>He gazed down at the camp, trying to work out where he could be most use. His fingers weren't as nimble as Mortimer's, and he was still weak from his illness - even teleporting to the top of the tent had been tiring. Still, he hoped there was something that he could do to help.</p><p>He spotted a man approaching - tall and broad, wearing a thick woollen cape around his shoulders. He had stepped out from the treeline at the edge of the camp and was striding forwards with purpose that sent panic flooding through Kurt's frame - there was something in the way the man moved that reminded him of a deadly predator, closing in on some prey. He didn't want to acknowledge what he was seeing - he was safe now. Logan was here - Creed would never attack the circus, not with Logan. He knew that. </p><p>He took a deep breath, gathering all the strength that he could, and teleported a short distance away from the figure. </p><p>A face from his nightmares looked at him, lips curling back in a broad smile revealing sharpened teeth. "Hello there, little imp."</p><p>"Nein. Nein..." Kurt stumbled backwards, his arms windmilling helplessly in the air. His tormentor just smiled wider, and Kurt backed away, teleporting towards Logan's caravan. He pushed open the door and found it empty. Logan was gone. Logan was gone and Creed was here, and he felt like he was suffocating.</p><p>Mortimer. He teleported to Mortimer, grabbing his friend and moving him away. "Stay here. I vill bring others."</p><p>"What's goin' on?" Mortimer asked, seeming to realise the sheer terror that shone in Kurt's eyes, the horror that he was reliving. </p><p>"He... he is here. Creed. And Logan is gone. Stay. Please." With that, he went, finding Laura on the doorstep of her caravan. Then Angel, then Hank, ushering as many as he could away from the camp. He grabbed Hank from the caravan he shared with Logan as the other man scrabbled to grab his books. They didn't have time for that. This was urgent. He could hear Creed's laughter as he tried to make his way through the panicked crowd, get them away. He was dizzy. The air around him felt too thin, and he could smell fire, and Creed was striding forwards. He'd lit some of the caravans ablaze.</p><p>Kurt made himself teleport inside and then out again in a moment, checking for anyone trapped within. He was shaking, the thick red coat he wore providing protection from the fire, but making him easy for Creed to see - and none of it mattered, because Creed was here, and Creed could track him down, Creed could smell him and he couldn't run. He couldn't run fast enough.</p><p>The repeated teleportation jumps were exhausting him, and each gulp of air was harder to force into his lungs, but he kept on. He had to keep on. Because Logan had been kind to him, and the circus had offered him a home. </p><p>The crowd forming on the edge of the forest were panicked, but as he teleported over again, a young boy with eyes across his body in his arms, Hank surged forwards. Hank gripped Kurt's shoulder.</p><p>"We're working out who we've got. We think that's everyone," Hank was saying, but he seemed to sway before him. Kurt couldn't concentrate on what was being said, could barely keep standing as he moved from side to side, the world spinning. He was exhausted, and his lungs were struggling with the smoke.</p><p>"I should check..."</p><p>"We can check," Hank told him firmly. "There's more of us than there are of him. We're not.... We can go. You stay here, with the children."</p><p>Kurt wanted to argue, wanted to refuse, but even standing felt like a challenge at that moment. Hank pressed Laura into his arms. "Keep her safe, Kurt. That's your job."</p><p>Exhausted and overwhelmed, Kurt nodded, holding her close against his chest. Laura struggled half-heartedly in his arms, and Kurt could hear shouting, hear discussion, but he couldn't make sense of it. The world was spinning worse.</p><p>Mortimer's hand grabbed his own, and he found himself being guided back deeper into the trees. "We ain't gonna let him get ya," Mortimer mumbled, and before Kurt could argue a few of the other mutants were helping him and Laura up into a tree. These were the mutants who couldn't fight - not strong like Hank or Logan, but delicate, fragile mutations. But they had got him up high, and they were helping the kids into the tree around him, and they were standing there, ready to fight in any way they could.</p><p>Laura still squirmed half-heartedly in his arms. He tried to hold her close, even as his vision narrowed. Darkness swallowed him, and it was a relief, because it meant he wouldn't have to see Creed's approach. He swayed on the branch he had been set on, but felt Laura pushing him back, holding him up there. </p><p>The world faded to distant fire and shouts he couldn't comprehend, his vision waning, and his body ached. Exhaustion claimed him, and he didn't fight it - he needed this, needed the silence that it offered. He couldn't face what was coming for him.</p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Cowards. The mutants that his baby brother had collected had all fled into the surrounding woodland, none of them strong enough to face him. Creed didn't mind that - he could hunt them down later. He'd seen his little imp, and he could smell him nearby. He hadn't run far enough, and Creed couldn't wait to find him again, make him bleed, see what noises he could force him to make. Such a fun little toy.</p><p>Jimmy had built this place up from nothing. Gone were the cages, the agony, and instead he'd made a nice little home, somewhere they'd felt safe... and Creed was going to tear it down. Show the others exactly how little they mattered. Stryker'd said he could have his imp back when it was all dealt with, as long as he didn't kill him, but there was a lot he could do without killing him. He'd never been able to make his little imp renounce his faith. But there was time. Prove to him that his god and Jimmy both had abandoned him. </p><p>He followed the scents through the camp. Found the place his brother had made a home - unfortunately his monstrous lover and brat had already escaped. He strode around it. No sign of them. He dragged his fingernails along the wood above the bed Jimmy shared with that blue-haired freak, a message to his brother.</p><p>It was tempting to burn the caravan down, but there was no rush for that. He wanted Jimmy to witness that. To know that Creed had won. Undeniable, and far more painful for it.</p><p>He strode around, scenting out the air, wondering who had stayed. There were so many new toys here, so many people who had joined the circus long after Jimmy's little escape. He wondered which of those he could destroy.</p><p>He knew of course what Stryker's plan was. To have his brat 'rescued' by Jimmy, when the kid was in on their little game. Have Jimmy return, thinking all was well, and find out just how much he had lost. And the funniest part was, his brother was so soft that the presence of Stryker's brat would mean Jimmy would pull his punches. Stryker had told Creed not to harm Jason, but in the heat of a fight, it would be only too easy to lash out with his claws and leave another death on his brother's conscience. </p><p>It would be easy to tell Stryker that it was Jimmy who had done it, killed the child. He looked forward to seeing what would happen with him, what Stryker would do in retaliation for all that Jimmy had done to cause chaos.</p><p>It was a delight when he first caught sight of his brother, walking along with Stryker's brat curled up in his arms and having relied on Stryker's own pet demon to bring him back. Part of him felt a flutter of irritation that Azazel had played along. But getting his little imp back, and seeing his brother suffer... that was worth the loss of a potential toy, funny though it would have been to dig his claws again into such a pretty face. And Jimmy walked with the brat, utterly oblivious to the fire that lapped the caravans he walked past, the destruction that Creed had already wrought. He headed into his own caravan, still cut off from the world, trapped in one of Jason's little games.</p><p>The brat could have so much fun with that power, but Jason showed no real imagination. Creed heard movement behind him, found himself faced with a mutant whose skin was almost waxy, transparent. He jumped at him, slashing with his claws, leaving the mutant screaming in agony, then bounded away, finding where a group of them had gathered. He watched them. They were talking in whispers about how to fight him, but he could already tell they posed no threat, that they were afraid. They wanted Jimmy to save them.</p><p>But Jimmy was trapped in the world Jason was showing him. </p><p>Creed circled back to his caravan and approached the door. Jimmy was afraid, the air stank of it, the terror mingling with the smoke and the others’ fear. He laughed to himself, hearing Jimmy whisper a lie to Jason, smelt the brat's tears in the air.</p><p>He reached the door, scraping his fingernails across the wood, and pushed it open. </p><p>He saw Jimmy look straight at him, sniffing the air, trying to work out whether the clothes he was wearing were stained with the blood of the little mutant family he'd formed. Creed had been told by Stryker not to kill - they needed these mutants. So he'd mostly maimed those he'd got his claws and teeth into. They'd heal, but they'd carry his scars for a lifetime.</p><p>Jimmy stepped forwards, those metal knives Stryker had given him extended, standing proud, trying to defend what was his. It was already too late. Creed swung at him, the movement practiced, easy. There was no room in this caravan for them to really fight, and Jimmy was using his lack of height to his advantage, ducking under. But he was still trying to force Creed out into the open, to protect the child that had cost him everything.</p><p>Creed laughed, because his brother had always been a fool, and years hadn't changed that, just made him more frantic to protect what he thought was his. What would never be his.</p><p>Monsters like him and Jimmy, they didn't get a family. They could play pretend, make nice with a partner and all that bullshit. But the same depravity lurked just beneath their skin. The only difference between him and Jimmy was that he didn't try and hide what he was. He gave in to it, bathed in the blood of his enemies and watched the firelight dancing, and left his brother to be weak.</p><p>Even with those knives in his hands, Jimmy weren't a fighter. Not really. He spent all his time refusing the animal within. And that... that weren't natural. He could play at being a human, but it wouldn't convince anyone, just prove himself unable to fight when faced with a real monster.</p><p>Creed had never tried to hide from what he was. And he tore into Jimmy with tooth and claw, nature personified and bloody.</p><p>Jimmy was trying to fight back. But he'd never learned how, even when he stopped pulling his punches. Their healing factors meant they were evenly matched, Jimmy carving deep slices into his skin as he gutted him with his claws, ripping a chunk from Jimmy's shoulders with his teeth.</p><p>The smell of someone else approaching gave him pause, and he threw Jimmy's body away, both of them needing a moment to heal.</p><p>The little Lehnsherr boy, all grown up. The thief who had taken his favourite toy away.</p><p>He turned to face him, dropping down onto all fours to cover the distance between them. He was going to make him pay. He was going to enjoy every moment of this. </p><p>***</p><p>Mortimer shoulda known it was never gonna last. He didn't get to keep nothing good, didn't deserve it. He knew it, and he was scared, but he knew everything else... he'd failed. He'd messed up, again, the way he always did. Mister Erik'd got rid of him, and now Mister Logan was going to die, and he'd be on his own.</p><p>He'd been scared before, as the humans had poked and prodded and taken measurements, shown him what happened to frog legs when you put sparks through them. And he was scared now. His home was burning, an' the monster Kurt had told him about was here.</p><p>It was all Mortimer's fault. He knew that, knew he was cursed an' unlucky and bad. But it didn' seem right that his friends... that people who'd been nice to him were gonna get hurt for it. Tha' didn't seem right at all.</p><p>He wanted to fix it. He knew if it was enough... he'd go with them, go with the monster, but he knew he weren't enough, was nothin' more than a pest. Nothin' more than some stupid kid that weren't good enough for a family, weren't good enough for love. </p><p>He'd got Kurt up into a tree, an' there were some of the other mutants 'round it, an' all of them were ready to fight, to try and protect Kurt, 'cause Kurt was good. But they weren't gonna win. Mortimer knew he'd probably be able to run out into the darkness and not be seen an' get away. But there weren't nowhere for him to go, an' he couldn't never show his face again if he let down the people who'd been kind.</p><p>Glob, who'd been nice an' let him pat one of his chickens, raced off to try and help Logan in the fight. And Glob screamed, and the fire raged in the camp, and Mortimer wanted to run away. </p><p>A few of the others were getting ready to fight, as Hank sat with a pretty girl whose name Mortimer didn't know, but who had pink skin and red markings around her eyes. Her arm was bleeding bad, and she looked shaky.</p><p>Mortimer realised they weren't gonna win. He was scared. He weren't a warrior, wasn't one of the ones getting ready to throw himself forwards. But he could jump, and he could watch. He made his way over to Hank, shaking a little in fear.</p><p>"Do ya wan' me to go an' see what I can, Mistah Hank?" </p><p>"That'd be good, Mortimer. Just stay back, out of trouble."</p><p>The funny thing was, when Hank said that, it sounded like he meant it. Their world was burnin', and Hank still wanted him to stay safe. </p><p>These guys and girls had been good to him. Acted like he was one of them. He made his way up into a tree, wanting to do what he could.</p><p>He saw the moment three people appeared - one looked like he was made of metal, and there was a girl about his age. Between them was Mister Erik, and Mortimer felt relief, because if Mister Erik was here then things were gonna be alright. Mister Erik had saved him before, an' he'd do it again, and Mister Logan was gonna be alright.</p><p>Mortimer knew in his heart that Mister Erik could do anything. It was gonna be okay now. And he moved closer to where the fighting was, staying back outta sight, not wantin' to cause any trouble. He crouched low on a rooftop, staring - Mister Logan was a real mess, with blood all over him, and it looked like some of his insides were on the outside. Mortimer whimpered, staring as they kept fighting - it weren't right. It was like animals or somethin', not people, trying to tear each other to pieces, and he felt kinda sick watching it. But he watched, because he had to know if he could help.</p><p>And then the monster stopped, shoving Mister Logan to the ground, sniffing. And his face lit up, bright, with a wide smile that explosed far too many bloody teeth. And he was moving towards Mister Erik.</p><p>Mortimer jumped onto the nearest caravan that wasn't aflame, chasing after him. Mister Erik was here, it was gonna work out.</p><p>Mortimer followed, keeping crouched low, not wanting to draw attention. He saw Mister Logan struggling to his feet again, and Mister Erik sending out little shreds of metal, using them to stab into the monster, try and hold him back, slow him down. Mortimer knew it would hurt - knew how much a single knife hurt - but the monster didn't seem to notice what was happenin', didn't seem slowed down by it.</p><p>Mortimer watched, his heart racing, as Mister Erik ran forwards, and in the distance he could see the air shimmering, wide and purple and angry. He didn't get what that was - but he knew Mister Erik'd brought help, somehow. Because that was the kinda guy Mister Erik was. They were gonna be okay, all of them, because Mister Erik was here.</p><p>He jumped to a nearer caravan, watching how Mister Erik was using bits of metal to try and make a net, to hold the monster back, as the monster sliced at the air and bit, and Mister Logan was approaching now, drenched in blood, and there were two of them, and they were gonna be okay. Mister Logan weren't walking right though, and there was still a lot of blood.</p><p>The monster laughed, and it weren't a good sound. It was mad, evil, and it made Mortimer want to hide away. The monster stepped forwards, towards Mister Erik, batting away the net he'd made. </p><p>"I don't know what my brother told you. But you took what's mine, and you're gonna pay for it."</p><p>Mister Erik was fast, and he was smart, fighting with all he'd got, using those sharp shards of metal to cut the monster, and Mortimer coulda whooped, at how well Mister Erik was doing. But he bit his lip an' just watched his hero.</p><p>The monster was bleeding, an' Mister Erik was using those bits of metal, faster and faster, and it felt like victory. The monster looked weaker, moving slower, and Mortimer thought they were winning. The monster stumbled, falling down onto its knees, and Mister Erik smirked and took a step closer.</p><p>And then the monster sprung forward, teeth and claws outstretched, and Mortimer knew that Mister Erik weren't gonna be okay.</p><p>Mister Erik'd been good to him. Kind. He hadn't ever treated Mortimer like he were less, like he didn't matter. And he made him feel safe.</p><p>That was why Mortimer jumped, the same time the monster did. He managed to use the power of his legs to end up in front of Mister Erik, and the monster's claws found their home in his body. </p><p>The pain was worse than anythin' he'd had before, like bein' on fire, his blood warming him after the chill of the night.</p><p>He lay on the ground, broken, feeling the nice shirt he'd been given grow heavy under the weight of his blood.</p><p>He heard an animal's roar, but the sky was darkening rapidly, and he couldn't hear what was happening. He was surprised the monster hadn't crushed him underfoot.</p><p>Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he felt relief, felt comfort. He weren't sure what to do about none of that. It was like a promise he'd done good, and a hand brushed his hair out of his face, not flinching away from the mess or the unpleasant blood and slime on his skin.</p><p>He groaned softly, eyes flickering against the darkness, and looked up. Mister Erik looked down at him, and Mister Erik reached out, brushed hair out of his face again. He could hear Mister Erik was talking, but it was hard to pick out the words when it hurt so much, when he felt like everything was fading.</p><p>"You foolish boy, Mortimer..." Mister Erik muttered, but he didn't sound angry. If anythin', he sounded sad.</p><p>"You're okay? Did we win, Mistah?"</p><p>"Yeah." Mister Erik's arms embraced him tighter, and it felt like he was being lifted up, the world shifting and jolting. He could hear Mister Erik shouting for help, but that didn't make no sense - they'd already won, an' Mister Erik weren't hurt. He felt a furry hand brush against him, and saw a pair of yellow eyes nearby, and he smiled. They'd won. It was all gonna be okay.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please do comment - it is so encouraging, and I'm trying to stay a couple of chapters ahead of where I'm posting.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(Warning for passing mention of mutilation of a corpse, and for brief surgery)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Erik swept Mortimer up into his arms, heart racing in his chest. The stupid, foolish, clumsy boy. Erik could have survived, and if not... he'd been ready to go down fighting, for everything that had been achieved, for everything that Logan had built. It had worked. Logan had brought Creed down, used his claws to hack his head from his shoulders. He'd been ready to buy Logan a few more moments, even at the cost of his own life. And the foolish boy had got in the way, had softened Creed's blow with his own body.</p><p> And now as the circus burned, Erik was holding Mortimer.</p><p>"Hank!" he shouted, rushing towards the blue man. "Mortimer, you stay with me."</p><p>The boy's eyes flickered weakly.</p><p>"You hang on, Mortimer," Erik murmured, wanting to embrace him, to make it better, but knowing that the best he could do was get him to Hank. He fell to his knees before Hank, laying the boy on the dirt, calling forth metal to cut through his shirt and reveal the deep gashes across the boy's chest and into his stomach, blood pouring forth.</p><p>Hank crouched in the mud beside him, starting to examine him, frowning. "He's losing a lot of blood. Kurt, get some blankets."</p><p>A moment later, Kurt was pressing blankets into Erik's arms, and he was placing them over the injury, keeping pressure on as Hank instructed him to, and then tightening a blanket across him, using it to lift him. It didn't seem to do enough to stop the flow of blood.</p><p>"We have to get him somewhere warm," Hank was saying, taking control, and Erik caught sight of Logan drenched in blood. A woman stepped forwards, raising her unbroken arm, and a purple portal shimmered into being.</p><p>He stepped through it, Hank at his side, and found himself in the grounds of Charles's house.</p><p>"Get him inside and in front of a fire," Hank ordered. "I'm getting Charles to prepare warm water and blankets, but right now if he gets too cold..."</p><p>Erik rushed to obey. He knew how much blood Mortimer had already lost, that the boy's body was shutting down from shock. Warmth might help buy them a little more time.</p><p>Charles was talking to him, but he didn't listen - what mattered was the child in his arms. He placed him by the hearth, carefully slipping away the remains of his shirt. Alex appeared by his side, holding out a basin of warmed water, and he started to clear away the dirt from the injuries as best as he could - debris in wounds like these could kill just as easily as the harm itself.</p><p>Mortimer looked even paler than normal, the greenish pallor of his skin replaced with a waxy whiteness. He looked almost peaceful, a smug smile on his face. As though the stupid boy thought that he'd done something well.</p><p>Hank appeared beside him, washing his overly large hands in the warmed water. "I have heard that doing this prevents infection... let me examine him."</p><p>It was hard to move even a short distance from the boy, but Erik obeyed and watched closely as Hank started to examine his wounds. Hank lifted his head, his eyes full of pain. "It... doesn't look hopeful, I'm afraid. He's lost a lot of blood..." </p><p>Erik glared at him. That wasn't good enough, wasn't an answer. There had to be something that could be done. </p><p>Charles spoke from the shadows, and Erik was surprised to realise he was there. "You have an idea, Hank. Tell him."</p><p>"There is a theory, that blood can be transfused from one individual to another. The results have been... uncertain, to say the least. Those infused with the blood of sheep or pigs have fallen ill, and some humans gifted human blood grew sick or died." Hank twisted his hands, concern written upon his face. "However... given the state of young Mortimer... I do believe his only chance would be receiving some blood. It may kill him, but if it does not, then it will be the only thing to save him. I would suggest we ask Logan, but he is... not with us, and we do not have time to fetch him."</p><p>Erik pushed off his coat and unbuttoned his sleeve, exposing the pale underside of his arm. "Take it from me."</p><p>"It's not without its risks."</p><p>"He did this to save me," Erik insisted. "My arm is already near useless. And I want him to live." He gazed up at Hank. "Allow me to do something good."</p><p>"I need a bowl and a knife," Hank instructed, and Erik called forth the fire scuttle, using the fire itself to burn off any dirt before he placed it beside Hank, shaping it according to the man's instructions. Charles pressed the images into Erik's mind, and he used his power to shape them, to create what was wanted. It was easy enough.</p><p>The pain of a blade was something he'd long been accustomed to. He kept breathing calmly as Hank made the incision. He looked away as the blood was taken, and Hank guided it into the boy's wounds. The wounds on Mortimer were dressed by Hank as Charles arrived to treat Erik's own.</p><p>"I can... if you have a needle and thread," Erik muttered, taking them when offered. He didn't want to look over at Mortimer. He knew his own blood might have killed him, remembered what Shaw had told him about the filth in his veins. But he had to believe he'd done something right. That he had done something good. </p><p>He could feel the blood he had given, moving through Mortimer's veins. The boy's heart was still beating, even if weak. He was still breathing.</p><p>"You should rest," Charles told him gently. "You're in pain, you need to rest."</p><p>"I will not leave the boy," Erik muttered. Even with his blood, Mortimer's heartbeat was painfully weak. He wanted to be there. If the worst happened, he couldn't let Mortimer be alone.</p><p>Charles's hand rubbed his shoulder, and it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. It was a comfort, a kindness which he did not deserve, but would not refuse. "I can have Alex bring you some blankets, so you can sleep beside the boy."</p><p>"Thank you," Erik whispered. He knew there were those who might have despised Mortimer's appearance, the grime that clung to him. But the boy had given all he could to keep Erik safe, and Erik was determined to repay that kindness. "I'd rest better knowing I'm here for him."</p><p>"Of course." Charles's hand squeezed his shoulder once more, and then he wheeled away, talking to Hank in a hushed voice about what had happened. About the trap they had fallen into, the trap that had nearly cost the boy his life. He was still breathing. That was good. That was hopeful. Erik had to believe that it would be enough.</p><p>He heard Mortimer give a soft whimper of pain and tried not to surrender to the hope that it sparked. The boy was clinging to life so far. There had to be hope.</p><p> </p><p>The next few days passed like a fever dream. Hank spent time checking Mortimer's injuries and taught Erik how to clean him, feed him and comfort him. Mortimer remained by the fire, and Erik washed his hands before touching him every time, because Hank said it might make a difference. He'd do anything that might give the boy a chance. </p><p>Days passed, and Erik's life shrunk to caring for the boy that had saved him, helping him to drink water from a rag used to wet his lips. He came to know how the boy's heartbeat responded, to see the way his eyelids flickered. Hank said he was growing stronger. That gave him hope. Charles would tell him if something needed his attention, but for now his focus was on the child lying there half-alive.</p><p>Almost a week into their stay, Mortimer's eyes opened, and he gazed up at Erik with something approaching devotion. </p><p>"Mistah Erik, did we win?"</p><p>"Yes." Erik wanted to sweep the boy into an embrace, but he knew that he shouldn't move him. Instead, he pressed his forehead against the boy's, feeling how the clamminess of his skin had settled closer to what it was before. "We won. You were very foolish, Mortimer. And very brave. But we won."</p><p>"Is Kurt safe?" Mortimer asked, looking around.</p><p>"He's safe. Logan got rid of that man. It's okay."</p><p>Comforted, and having heard enough to assuage his fears, the boy slept again. Erik fussed, making sure the blanket would give him adequate warmth, before reaching out to Charles's mind.</p><p><i>Erik?</i> Charles answered instantly, and Erik was grateful for that support. <i>What is it?</i></p><p><i>He woke up,</i> Erik answered, pressing forwards the image of the boy being awake. He was surprised to discover that tears were glistening on his face - Charles's emotions bleeding through their link. </p><p><i>I'm on my way,</i> Charles promised, and Erik was surprised to find that promise comforting. He had spent time in Charles's house, first as a prisoner and then as a reluctant guest, waiting for the chance to seek revenge on Stryker. And yet Charles had made no effort to move him on as he cared for Mortimer, having food brought to him so he did not have to leave the boy's side. Erik felt a great deal of affection for Charles for that simple kindness.</p><p>Charles arrived, accompanied by Hank, who made notes on Mortimer's breathing and heartbeat, lifting up his eyelids and holding a candle close to examine pupil response and a dozen other things that Erik didn't understand. It didn't matter though - what mattered was that Hank's treatment was a success. </p><p>"Come, Erik. Let Hank check how his injuries are healing. We can return shortly." Charles reached for Erik's hand, and Erik let Charles lead him away. The wound to his arm had mostly healed, although there would be a scar. That didn’t matter. Of all the injuries he had suffered in his life, there were none that Erik could think of as good prior to this wound. Mortimer lived. For once, the world was kind.</p><p>"How are the others?" Erik asked, aware he had been almost blind to the world beyond the room he was resting in as Mortimer clung on at the boundary of life and death. </p><p>"They are well enough. Logan has dealt with the remains of Creed, and Kurt is even rehearsing for future performances. I am sure they will be delighted to have Mortimer back."</p><p>Erik hesitated, thinking of how fragile Mortimer was. "Let me speak to him about his return to the stage."</p><p>"When he is well. Come now, Jean has been helping Darwin make apple tartlets in the kitchen, you must try them. They're divine."</p><p>Erik could recognise a distraction when he saw one. He still complied.</p><p>Erik and Charles might have disagreed about a number of things. The position of mutants within cultural standing. The rights of those who exposed mutant children to pain. The correct response to the brutality of the world.</p><p>One thing they apparently could agree on was that Jean was a surprisingly good cook when it came to apple tartlets. The little girl sat on the kitchen counter, swinging her feet to and fro, and looking up at Erik hopefully.</p><p>"They're good," he reassured her. </p><p>Her eyes lit up and she beamed at him, and he heard her voice in his head. <i>Thank you!</i></p><p><i>You're welcome,</i> he thought back at her. Charles ate his own, the honeyed sweetness on the top lingering on his lips for a moment. Erik glanced away before he could spend too long examining the delicate curve of Charles's mouth. </p><p>"Thank you for all your help over the past week."</p><p>"We are hardly enemies, my friend. You and Mortimer needed somewhere to recover."</p><p>"I was fine," Erik protested, only for Charles to shoot him a cold look.</p><p>
  <i>Hank informed us that the blood you lost weakened you, not to mention the entire... issue. I am only sorry that after everything, I was unable to find out more about Shaw's whereabouts.</i>
</p><p><i>You gave Mortimer somewhere to recover his strength. I am not churlish enough to object after such kindness...</i> Erik answered, then frowned a little. <i>Do you think that Mortimer is going to be alright?</i></p><p><i>I believe he will be as well as he can be, with all your support.</i> </p><p>Erik was looking away, not sure how to respond, and therefore Charles's fingers brushing his own were a surprise. He looked at the other man, and Charles offered him an airy smile. </p><p>"I do believe you still owe me another game of chess. I can have Alex fetch us the board and we can play in the drawing room, as I assume you won't be parted from Mortimer for long."</p><p>Erik was vaguely aware that he should refuse. That he should thank Charles for his help, but explain that the two of them had nothing shared between them - definitely not a game of chess. And yet, after all of it, the idea felt rather appealing. He could play, without straying from Mortimer's side. He nodded slowly. "In the evening."</p><p>"Of course. I am sure you will want to get back to him. I can have Alex draw you a bath, or whatever else you require."</p><p>Before he could answer, Hank walked in, his broad blue face split with a smile. Hank turned to Erik. "Your boy is doing well. I've given him some laudanum so that he can rest without pain."</p><p>"Thank you." Erik nodded. He was glad that Mortimer would at least be able to rest, even if he remembered the dulling effects of that particular cure with a great deal of distaste. "Will he be sleeping long?"</p><p>"I believe he will rest for the remainder of the day, and for dinner this evening we can try him on some thicker broth."</p><p>Erik nodded, vaguely aware of how little he had done in the past week to care for himself, his focus on the youth that had nearly died to save him. "Dr Xavier-"</p><p>"Charles."</p><p>"Charles. May I go and work in the garden? I need to clear my head."</p><p>"Of course. Although do be careful, we are a little crowded at the moment." There was a hint of amusement in Charles's voice, which made a lot more sense when he stepped outside of the house to see the ragtag array of tents that had been set up, Logan's troop recovering in the security of Charles's estate. He was barely out the door before Kurt appeared beside him, his face illuminated by another of his brilliant smiles.</p><p>"Hank told us that Mortimer woke up."</p><p>"He did," Erik agreed, and he could see the sheer relief in Kurt's eyes.</p><p>"Will you give him this?" Kurt asked, holding out his rosary beads. "I would want him to have them until he is well. In case it helps him."</p><p>"I think you should keep them," Erik answered. In all the time he had known Mortimer, he had shown no sign of religious inclinations - or for that matter, any religious awareness. "But I am sure he would like to see you later, when he is awake."</p><p>"Zen I shall be there," Kurt agreed, disappearing back into the mess of tents. Erik ignored the others, not wishing to be drawn into a conversation, and returned to the flowerbed he had been working on.</p><p>It was dark before he returned to the house, fetching the broth that Hank had insisted was prepared. Mortimer was awake, and Kurt had come to visit, although the older youth vanished in a burst of smoke when Erik arrived.</p><p>"Hello, Mortimer."</p><p>"Hello, Mistah Erik," Mortimer answered, attempting to prop himself up on his elbows, and flinching at the movement. </p><p>"Rest," Erik ordered. "I've brought you some dinner... You were very foolish, Mortimer, to jump into Creed’s way. You could have died."</p><p>"I know, Mistah Erik. But I didn' want him to kill you."</p><p>Erik smiled a little sadly, not sure what answer he could give to that. "Thank you. Well, I'm glad you survived. You were very brave."</p><p>"I jus' didn't want you hurt," Mortimer answered, gazing around. "You were good t'me."</p><p>"You deserve kind things, Mortimer. I'm sorry that the world has made you think that you do not."</p><p>"You took me to the circus an' stuff..." Mortimer objected. "An' they were nice there, they didn' beat me or nothin..."</p><p>"Are you happy there, Mortimer?" Erik asked, and Mortimer's face crumpled a little as he shrugged.</p><p>"They're nice. I don' like the humans much, but... I ain't... I ain't fit for much, am I? An' if I go to a workhouse, then I'm gonna end back with the scientists again, an' I don't want that."</p><p>"You won't have to deal with that," Erik swore. "If you aren't happy in the circus, how do you feel about being my assistant?"</p><p>The boy nodded so fast he went a little pale, and then smiled. "Yeah, I'd like tha', Mistah Erik. I'd like tha' a lot."</p><p>"Well, we'll see. But I promise you, you won't have to perform if you'd rather not." He reached out to ruffle Mortimer's hair, and Mortimer smiled up at him broadly, his eyes shining with happiness. Erik cursed the fact he cared about the boy. He cursed the fact so much of the world didn't. </p><p>"Thanks, Mistah."</p><p>"It's nothing, Mortimer. Now, eat your broth, and then rest. You've still got a lot of healing to do."</p><p>Mortimer nodded, slower this time, and reached for his spoon, frowning a little in concentration. Erik watched him fondly. He wasn't sure whether there was space in his life for a child like Mortimer, but he thought that there might be space in Charles's life. If nothing else, Mortimer was a smart boy, hard working and quiet, and Charles needed assistance. He regretted taking him from Hank's lessons, but if Mortimer wasn't happy in the circus then he wanted to find him somewhere he would feel more comfortable.</p><p>Charles's staff might have mostly been gifted, rather than mutants, but he could see Mortimer being happy there. First though, the boy needed to recover his strength, so that he would be able to work. After that, they could worry about the rest.</p><p>***</p><p>Logan didn't object as Hank spent time trying to care for Mortimer, even though the boy wasn't the only one that Creed's claws had torn through. Logan had failed them. For years, Logan had set himself up as the one who could defeat Stryker, the one who could keep all of his mutants safe from the monsters that would hurt them.</p><p>And then he had failed.</p><p>There was no other way of looking at it - he had let them down, utterly. He hadn't been there when they needed him, caught up in a little girl's lie. Creed had rampaged through the camp, burning much of it, leaving several of them injured. If Jace herself hadn't chosen to free him from her hold, it was likely he would have been too late to do anything. Even as it was, he had mostly just bought some time for Blink to recover and get them to Charles.</p><p>Charles had been a generous host. He'd offered them security, made sure that they were rested and well-fed, checked that they had all that they needed, let them move the remaining caravans to his grounds. He offered unused rooms to them, and had not yet questioned when they would leave. </p><p>But Logan still felt like he was trespassing. He had no right to be there, to bring a horde of mutants onto Charles's property when Charles did all he could to keep himself separate from their kind. But he didn't leave, because at that moment there was nowhere else to go.</p><p>Creed was gone. Not dead, necessarily - Logan knew that the two of them had been around too long, survived too much, for something like beheading to stop him permanently. But he'd dealt with the body. Divided it and put it far away. That would hopefully at least succeed in slowing him down.</p><p>He hadn't dealt with Stryker. All those years that his mutants had relied on him to keep their tormentor away, and he'd ended up being played like an accordion, tricked by a child and nearly killed. He wasn't sure what to make of any of that, how to deal with the reality of what he had done. It wasn't good to think about, weren't fun to linger on. </p><p>He needed to move forwards, to lead.</p><p>He kept thinking of the devastation every time he closed his eyes. Those gauges in the wood. The knowledge of what could have happened to Hank, to <i>Laura</i>, if he had failed.</p><p>Worse, he was haunted by the knowledge that the demon who had caused such devastation had done it because of him. Creed might have been working for Stryker, but he knew that what had happened had been motivated by Creed’s hate.</p><p>Creed was an animal, a monster. And the same blood flowed in Logan’s veins as in Creed's - he'd butchered his brother's corpse with barely a thought. Had done what needed doing without compassion or concern, focusing just on the practicality of it, ensuring he did what needed to happen. That in itself felt like a sign of monstrosity. Inhuman.</p><p>He wanted to finish it. To hunt down Stryker, to plunge his blades into the man's chest and end it all, to make sure that the nightmare was put to rest. But he couldn't. His people were here, and he couldn't abandon them again.</p><p>Hank returned from the house, a smile on his face, and Logan wondered how Hank could bear to embrace him after what he had done. He didn't dare to ask, didn't want to hear the answer. </p><p>"Hello, handsome," Logan murmured, leaning in to kiss Hank. Publicly, of course, this kind of thing could get you imprisoned. But his circus had never followed the rules of normality.  Hank smiled softly against his lips.</p><p>"How's the patient doing?" Logan asked, and Hank nodded.</p><p>"A bit better. He's going to pull through." </p><p>That promise relieved a little of the pressure that had settled over Logan's heart. He hadn't got that death on his conscience at least. "And the girls?"</p><p>"Kurt's keeping an eye on them," Hank answered. "You should come and see them. They've been worried about you."</p><p>Logan nodded slowly. The truth was, he had been avoiding the two of them as much as he could, throwing himself into other tasks. He couldn't face Jace after what had happened, and when he saw Laura, there was so much of her that reminded him of his brother when they had been younger. Not to mention her very existence proved to him that he was just as much of a monster as his brother was.</p><p>Hank reached out and squeezed his hand gently. "Those girls adore you, Logan. I know you don't think you deserve them, but you do."</p><p>There was no answer he could give to that which didn't sound hollow. He was lucky that Hank had forgiven him after everything, that he had welcomed Jace into their family with loving arms.</p><p>After Creed was stopped, Hank's attention had been on providing medical treatment to the wounded. Logan had sent them all with Blink, and returned to the caravan that had been his home.</p><p>Jace had still been tucked beneath the bed, curled up small with her arms around her knees, sobbing. He'd guided her out gently, and wrapped her in his arms as she'd explained in gulping sobs what had happened.</p><p>He couldn't blame her for it. He blamed Stryker for hurting the little girl, making her think she had no choice but to go along with his plan. He was mad at himself for being tricked, at Stryker for planning it, at Azazel for helping him, and at Creed for being the bastard he always was. He didn't blame the little girl who had been caught up in the middle of all of it.</p><p>Logan hadn't been sure if Hank was gonna see things the way he did. But he knew, the second they met, that Hank understood. Hank didn't blame her, and he treated her with gentle kindness. Charles too had been good to the girl, giving her a dress that Jean had outgrown. Laura was delighted to have an older sister, and everything was… good. Apart from Logan knowing what he had done.</p><p>Hank's hand on his shoulder was firm, and he found himself being pushed over to where the children were playing. Kurt had surrounded himself with a number of the younger mutants, telling a fantastical story about an exotic land and the creatures that could be found there. Jace was in her dress, hair short, her little face scrunched up in concentration as she provided visuals to those watching, butterflies with multicoloured wings soaring through the air.</p><p>Hank leaned down to rest on Logan's shoulder. "The children are safe here. We'll get the circus back, but for now... we're safe."</p><p>Logan didn't like the idea of living off Charles's hospitality for long. He'd always prided himself on doing what he could to survive. Charles might have offered them some financial support, but they were never dependent upon him. Relying on Charles for everything was different and unwelcome. But with Stryker still out there, and Logan unsure how much he could trust himself, he felt somewhat trapped. It was better to get Charles's help than to be helpless. </p><p>Kurt finished the tale he was telling, bowing low, and then directed applause to Jace, who smiled softly. Logan could tell how good being free was for her. He just hated the number of years she'd been trapped. He could sense her joy, the happiness pouring from her. She looked up, seeing him there, and her happiness became spiked through with concern. </p><p>He tried to smile at her, and after a moment her fear softened and she approached, Laura still playing with Kurt.</p><p>"I'm sorry about using my power," she whispered.</p><p>Logan crouched down in front of Jace, gazing into her eyes. "Now, you listen here princess, and listen good. There's gonna be a lot of people in this world who tell you not to use your gift, that you're bad for it. But they're wrong. Your gift's special, remarkable. Just like you. You don't have to be ashamed of what you are, princess."</p><p>She smiled up at him, and then reached out for a hug. He hugged her back, spinning her in the air the way he did Laura. As he did so, she shifted her appearance a little, shorn hair becoming beautiful ringlets. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.</p><p>"You're perfect just like you are, princess," he told her, and she giggled. He placed her down carefully, turning to Hank. He wasn't sure. He still looked at himself and saw a monster, but his lover and his daughters didn't, and they needed support. He could close himself off from them, ignore them, but he'd end up hurting them just as much as himself. He took a deep breath, and straightened up. They deserved all of him.</p><p>***</p><p>Having Logan's chaotic jumble of mutants under his roof - or rather sprawling through the servants quarters and several of the gardens - was not what Charles had planned for. However, he understood - right now Logan needed his family to be safe. Not just Hank and Laura, who Charles would always have welcomed with open arms, but also the strange mess of mutants he surrounded himself with.</p><p>So they stayed, at least for now.</p><p>Charles blamed himself for what had happened, how close they had come to disaster. He was a telepath, he was meant to always be on alert, to find out what was happening, to be unfoolable. And Erik had disrupted all of that. He had been so focused on what Erik had asked for that he hadn't realised they had all blundered into a trap, thoroughly outwitted. Thoroughly helpless - it was only through sheer luck and Hank's medical expertise, that Mortimer's life had been spared. </p><p>He should have seen it coming. He was meant to be aware of these things - and he'd dived straight through surface thoughts, seeking out the information for Erik. That would be a regret that haunted him. As Logan's troop settled into their temporary base and Erik spent hours fussing over the patient as Mortimer lingered on the boundary between life and death, Charles felt angry. With himself, mostly, and with Erik for distracting him from his cause. He was meant to be several moves ahead of everyone else, and Erik was making him slow. And yet despite that - there was something about Erik that was hard to explain, something captivating.</p><p>His mind was somewhat impenetrable - he could project emotions out, and did so freely, but he'd managed to conceal information out of Charles's reach. And ever since being a child, Charles had hated it when there were things that he did not know. More than that though, what he could grasp of Erik's mind was fascinating. Not just the obvious rage which had driven him, which was almost deafeningly loud from the moment they met. There was compassion there, and kindness, the likes of which he didn't know how to manage. </p><p>He watched Erik taking care of Mortimer, staying by the boy's side as he recovered, and he could feel the sheer love pouring off of him, the tenderness with which he regarded the boy who had been abandoned and maltreated by so many. He knew that Erik had had to work this out with little guidance, that his own early life had contained little by way of kindness. And yet Erik managed. In his own way, he was goodness in a world that had shown him much cruelty.</p><p>Charles regretted getting into a trap. But he couldn't regret meeting Erik, or the time they had spent together. He watched from his study as Erik busied himself in the garden, clearly finding it an easier way to block out the world outside. He looked happy, the sun shining down on him. Charles thought he could stare for hours and still not have looked his fill.</p><p>He wasn't sure what to do with this information. The fondness he felt for Erik went beyond simple friendship, and yet there was no sign that Erik regarded him as a friend, much less more. Over the past few days, Erik's attention had been solely on the boy that he cared for as a son, watching for any sign of recovery. </p><p>Charles knew he was a telepath, but he had no idea if his feelings on the matter were returned, or what he should do if they were.</p><p>He made himself look away from Erik, hard at work with his sleeves pushed up, jacket abandoned on a nearby shrub. There was more to be done.</p><p>For a start, Charles was determined to ensure that Erik should sleep somewhere other than Cain's dusty old room. Erik's stubborn refusal was an insult to his hosting, and Erik deserved comfort. Charles longed to give him all he wished for, a life of luxury - but he would start by insisting that Erik move into a room which was at least passably comfortable.</p><p>Erik chose not to join them for dinner - his attention was yet again on Mortimer, helping him sit up and eat a little - but he did join Charles after the meal was finished. He announced his presence outside Charles's study by sliding one of the pawns on Charles's chess board forwards.</p><p>Charles smiled softly. "Come in, Erik."</p><p>Erik strode into the room, head held high. He always walked into places as though he owned them, and it would have looked obnoxious on some people. On Erik, though, it looked right. The confidence suited him. </p><p>Erik nodded his head in greeting. "I thought I'd take you up on that offer of a chess game."</p><p>Charles wheeled over to the chessboard. "Do you want to take a seat? I know you already proved you can play without looking, but..."</p><p>"No, I would rather play in the traditional manner." His pawn slid back into place, and Erik walked over to the leather armchair that Charles kept in a corner. He lifted it with a wave of his uninjured hand, floating it effortlessly through the air and then taking his seat opposite Charles. "Do you want to start?"</p><p>"I would like that," Charles agreed. "But Erik, we need to discuss your sleeping arrangements. You can't be comfortable where you are at the moment, and anyway it's hardly suitable."</p><p>"It's dry and warm. I can hardly complain," Erik answered, a hint of a smile settling on his lips. Charles shot him a glare.</p><p>"I most certainly can, Erik. If you are going to stay here any longer... I really would rather you took a more comfortable room. If it would assuage your guilt, you could stay close to Mortimer."</p><p>"I meant to ask you about him," Erik interrupted, a more serious expression on his face. "Hank says that he is educable, he's hard working and he's devoted. I don't know if you need any other servants, but he would be a prime candidate."</p><p>"Why are you asking this? I thought you sent him to the circus?" </p><p>"He's self-conscious about his appearance. But he works hard, and he... he deserves to live a good life. He saved me."</p><p>Charles stared at Erik, a little nonplussed at how very oblivious the other man was. "He can stay here, but I have no need for a servant. I believe he would be happier living with you, rather than serving me. Of course, if you were to accept my offer of other rooms for the two of you, you would be welcome to stay for as long as you liked." As he spoke, Charles felt himself warming to the idea. "Jean is fond of you, and I am sure she would love to have another friend to boss around, and Logan visits often enough that Mortimer would be able to see him..."</p><p>"Why would you offer me this?" Erik asked, curiously. "I'm not intending to give up my plans of hunting down Shaw. Wiping him from the earth is my priority - will remain my priority. Nothing, no matter how wonderful, will persuade me otherwise."</p><p>"You think my offer of a home wonderful?" Charles smiled a little at the faint annoyance that escaped Erik at that moment. </p><p>"I think it matters less to me than revenge."</p><p>"But it is worth a try, isn't it?" Charles wheedled, aware he was acting foolishly, but unable to resist. "For now at least. I haven't had such a marvellous chess partner in years."</p><p>"I suppose," Erik agreed, falling into silence as he continued to play. Charles studied the elegant lines of Erik's face in the lamplight, already certain he'd find some way to dissuade him from his mission, to convince him that his purpose was to remain here, with the family they had created.</p><p>Erik had lost too many years to pain, to chasing after monsters. Charles wanted to show him an alternative - hope, the chance to rest. </p><p>"I will take one of your rooms," Erik conceded as Charles managed to manoeuvre him into check. "At least for now. On the condition that you let me help clear your garden - it is in desperate need, and I shall feel better for repaying your kindness."</p><p>"I should like that," Charles agreed, longing to reach across the chess board, to take Erik's hand. </p><p>But Erik simply smiled and stood up, bowing a little stiffly before floating his chair back into its spot. "I had best go and check on Mortimer. Goodnight, Charles. I wish you a peaceful sleep."</p><p>"You as well," Charles answered, watching Erik retreat.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much to everyone who comments. They mean a lot to me. I have decided to go down to one update a week for a while, so that I have time to write some fic for other fandom events, so next update will be the 9th. Happy December to you all, and take care of yourselves!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wakin' up hurt. Mortimer could feel his entire body aching, like he'd been hit by a tree trunk or somethin', but that wasn't the real surprise - what surprised him was that he was waking up at all. </p><p>He'd thought it was over, and he'd been alright with that. He'd helped Mister Erik, and Kurt was gonna be safe, and he'd known what happened to him didn' matter, not compared to the rest of them. But he could feel himself waking up. His chest ached, where the monster had swiped at him, and he wasn't able to hold in a groan of pain. And he opened his eyes.</p><p>Mister Erik was there, like an angel. He smiled up at him, trying to ask the most important question. "Mistah Erik, did we win?"</p><p>"Yes. We won. You were very foolish, Mortimer. And very brave. But we won." That didn't make no sense - Mortimer knew he weren't brave, an' he didn't do nothing stupid - he'd known he might die, but that was okay, 'cause it was worth it. There was one other thing he had to ask.</p><p>"Is Kurt safe?" Mortimer asked, trying to prop himself up on his elbows and take a proper look around, see what was really going on.</p><p>"He's safe. Logan got rid of that man. It's okay." Mister Erik wrapped the blanket up around him, like he was something special, and he fell back asleep.</p><p>Mortimer woke up more an' more over the next few days. A couple'a times, it was Mister Hank there, fussing over him, taking measurements and monitoring his wellbeing. That, at least, kinda made sense. But sometimes it was Kurt there, his head bowed, lips moving in silent prayer. Once Mister Logan was there, gazing down at him with something like sadness in his eyes, but he'd walked out without saying a word. And other times - most times - it was Mister Erik who was there, looking after him.</p><p>Mortimer'd never had a family. He was too ugly for that, but Mister Erik looked at him with such kindness and didn't get mad, even though he said he was angry with him. Mortimer wondered if that was what having a family was like.</p><p>The food was good, and after a few more days he could sit up and even take a few shaky steps, although it hurt. He found out that the rest of the circus were staying with Mister Charles, too - he'd not seen Mister Charles, but he heard about him from his visitors. And so he guessed he'd be leaving soon,  but he wanted to try and spend time with Mister Erik if he could, before he had to go back to the circus.</p><p>He shivered a little. Mister Logan was great, real great, kind an' patient and gentle, he just... he didn't like bein' stared at, and he hurt all over from where that monster'd scratched him. But he was lucky to get another chance.</p><p>Mister Hank said he had to try and rest as much as he could, so that he'd get better. And he tried, but he also did the exercises Mister Hank told him and took the laudanum he was given.</p><p>He woke up one day from a nightmare to find that Mister Erik was asleep in the chair beside him. He managed to put his blanket over him and then slip out from the bed, thinking. He wanted to go an' see Kurt. Check that the nightmare was a lie, an' that Kurt was okay.</p><p>It was awkward, slipping out of the door quietly, but he knew how to not be seen. He took a few moments to lean against the door frame and get his breath back, gasping for air as the room seemed to spin around him. </p><p>He realised someone was looking at him. A well-dressed little girl with red hair, who had a boy who was blindfolded leaning against her shoulder. "Hello?" he spoke quietly, afraid - he didn't want her to disturb Mister Erik's sleep by shouting names at him.</p><p>She frowned, leading her companion closer and offering her hand up to him to shake. "Why would I call you names?"</p><p>Mortimer shrugged, looking down and not taking her hand. She sighed and shook her head. "You're sad. Come on, you should meet my Papa, he'll help." Mind made up, she grabbed his hand and marched him along the corridor. "My Papa's the best at sorting out when someone's upset, so he'll make you feel better, I promise."</p><p>Mortimer hesitated for a moment, before he decided he better go with her - she was dressed real nice, and it wouldn't do to offend her, not when he could be thrown out any point.</p><p>He wasn't really sure where he was. This was a fancier building than he'd ever been in before, and he felt like he was ruining it just by being in it. He weren't dressed in his ruined shirt no more - he'd been given new clean clothes, and he felt nervous in them, worried he'd ruin them somehow. </p><p>The little girl showed no sign of slowing down until she knocked on a smart wooden door, then pushed it open. "Papa," she began, with the sheer confidence of someone who expected to be obeyed.</p><p>Mortimer realised that he felt a little dizzy, looking around the room. There were more books than he'd seen in his whole life, and there was a man at a desk, sat in some fancy chair. And the man came out, moving round the desk, and stopped at the table. What was strange was that he was still in his chair.</p><p>"Mortimer, sit down." </p><p>He went to sit on the floor, when he heard the man continue. <i>No, Mortimer, please sit down on that armchair.</i> What was weird was the man's mouth weren't moving. He sat where he was told, and the man moved forwards, smiling. </p><p>"Hello Jean, hello Scott, hello Mortimer, it's lovely to see you all." He made his way forwards, pushing the wheels of his chair, and held out a glass of fresh water for Mortimer. "Drink this." The glass was cut all nice, and it sparkled like diamonds as he took a nervous sip.</p><p>"Thanks, Mistah."</p><p>"It's alright, Mortimer. It's good to see you up and about, although you should rest a little. How are you feeling?"</p><p>"Good, thanks..." Mortimer hesitated, taking another sip of water. "Kinda confused though..." He didn't know who the man was, only that he looked important.</p><p>"I'm Charles," the man - Mister Charles - told him gently. "This is my house, and you've met my daughter, Jean. Logan's troop are staying here now, and you've been recovering. Now, from what I heard, you were very brave."</p><p>"I didn't want Mistah Erik to be hurt."</p><p>"I'm sure he's glad of that," Mister Charles answered, and Mortimer felt kinda shy, because Mister Charles was clearly important, and yet he spoke to him like he was important, not stupid. He weren't sure what to make of that. "But yes, I've spoken to Erik, and we thought perhaps you'd like to stay here."</p><p>"What'd'ya mean?"</p><p>"I mean, would you like to stay in my house?" Charles asked. "Erik says you aren't comfortable in the circus, and you would be welcome here."</p><p>"I ain't... I ain't smart, an' I dunno what I can do for you, Mistah..." Mortimer mumbled, feeling kinda stupid. He curled in on himself. Mister Charles just looked towards him sympathetically, shaking his head a little. </p><p>"You don't need to do anything for me. Not right now. You're healing, and you're a guest here. This... this can be your home," Mister Charles was saying, and Mortimer didn't understand, didn't believe it, but he didn't want to get into trouble for arguing. </p><p>Mister Charles's attention had already drifted off to his daughter. "Jean, would you get me that book I've been reading?"</p><p>She walked over to a shelf, and picked out a big green book, carrying it back. Scott had curled up by the fire, his knees against his chest, and Mortimer felt kinda worried for him. "Mistah?"</p><p>"Yes, Mortimer?"</p><p>"Why's he gotta wear a blindfold?" Mortimer was worried for the kid, and scared it'd happen to him.</p><p>Mister Charles breathed in funny, then answered. "Scott can't control his ability, and left unchecked it can be dangerous, to himself and others. But we're going to find a solution. He's not in trouble."</p><p>Jean sat down by Scott, her little hand grasping his, and Mister Charles opened the book. Mortimer shuffled awkwardly in his seat, not sure if he'd been forgotten.</p><p>"I know you're there, Mortimer. And you are welcome to join us, I'd like that," Mister Charles told him, and he put the book down on his lap and stared at the pages. </p><p>"Can I do pictures?" Jean asked, and Mister Charles nodded. </p><p>"That sounds good. Scott, Mortimer, is it acceptable to you if Jean shows you how she imagines the story?"</p><p>"Yes, Mister Charles," Mortimer answered, because he knew it was important to be polite. And then images appeared in his mind, floating in his thoughts, kings and queens and princesses. He closed his eyes, watching the magic play out.</p><p>***</p><p>Erik had meant to keep an eye on Mortimer, not wanting the boy to wake up alone. Over the past few days, people had come to visit the youth, and it seemed to be helping him. But Erik was tired. He was spending his spare time working in the garden, or helping Logan's troop, fashioning raw metal into tools for them. And then when he wasn't doing that, he was at Mortimer's side, reading quietly, or just talking to him, or watching as he slept. It had been a stressful few days, but Mortimer was fighting. He was doing so well. </p><p>Erik just wanted to be there to comfort him, to hold him close and let him know that there was a reason to strive, to keep fighting, to live. And every time Mortimer woke up and realised he hadn't been abandoned, he looked delighted, and Erik felt more determined than ever to help him. He could do this. He could provide Mortimer with the comfort and security he needed, help him have a purpose.</p><p>Logan had done that for him. A long time ago, when he had been a frightened child, stolen from his parents and alone, younger even than Mortimer was now, Logan had been the one who was there to care for him. To listen when he was afraid and promise him that he was strong enough to survive this.</p><p>Back when he was too young to fight, it was Logan who had inspired him, who had given him hope that he could get through whatever the world was going to throw at him and find his way back to freedom. They had parted ways since, and at times their disagreements felt irreconcilable but Erik wanted to share that hope. Wanted to give Mortimer the same core of iron that Logan had given him. Certainty that the world was cruel, but that he would survive whatever came his way.</p><p>Over the time he had cared for the boy, he'd begun to feel guilty for sending him away. He'd thought it was for the best - Mortimer might have hated the stares of humans, but Logan offered him a future, and Erik didn't have that. But as he watched him breathe, chest rising and falling shallowly, and knew the child was willing to throw away his life to save Erik's... Erik wondered if he'd been too quick to abandon the child.</p><p>Focussing on his failures around Mortimer was easier than allowing his thoughts to stray to Charles. He wasn't quite sure where they stood - Charles was the kind of man who Erik would consider unreachable. He was highly educated, well read, and had concealed his gift so successfully that he was able to pass even amongst scientists as a normal human. He was the kind of man that Erik should have found obnoxious, concealed in a life of luxury.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>And yet there was something about Charles that was captivating. The confidence with which he used his ability - the way he had thought nothing of imprisoning Erik in a room simply because he was inconvenient. Charles had such potential, if he only dared to embrace it - and there were moments he came beautifully close to doing so. He was skilled at thinking two or three steps ahead of everyone else in the room, and he smiled at Erik in a way that made Erik want to do more. The way Charles was when it was just them, playing chess together with the burdens of the outside world seeming far away.</p><p>It was easier to focus on Mortimer.</p><p>Because of him, the boy had almost lost his life, and yet he still treated Erik like he was a hero, like he was everything that the boy had ever wished for in a guardian. And then there was what Charles had said. About Erik's responsibility to him.</p><p>He had listened to enough of Logan's ranting, at the times he had been in possession of his right mind, to know that blood wasn't the same as family. But his blood coursed through Mortimer's veins now, and it felt that brought with it a debt. He watched the firelight flickering as the boy slept and wondered how he could balance the care he owed this child, the tangled feelings he had towards Charles, and his need for vengeance. He was sure there was a simple answer, but if there was one it darted ever out of his reach.</p><p>One day, he drifted off while staying nearby Mortimer, ready to fetch the boy whatever food or water he could stomach the moment it was needed, and woke up to find the boy was gone. He felt a sudden spike of fear, irrational terror suggesting that perhaps Hank had come to treat the boy and found him ill, carried him off without warning. But before the fear could grow to overwhelm him, he felt Charles's mind brush against his own. <i>He's with me. I'm reading the children a story, you can join us if you'd wish.</i></p><p>He was tempted to say no. If Mortimer was currently being supervised, there were other things that he should do. He was trying to create netting to line some of the rooms of the house, to protect the mutants if Azazel came back and brought Stryker with him. But there had been no sign of the human since he had departed the meal, and the mutants had proven themselves capable of handling any threat.</p><p>More than that though, part of him wished to see Mortimer. Part of him wished to see Charles. He didn't let himself think on that too long, getting to his feet, tracking the nails of the wooden chair Charles used. He found him sat by the fireside in his chair, Mortimer curled up on a leather sofa nearby, his eyes closed and a happy expression on his face. Jean was lying on a rug before the fire, Scott sat beside her, and her eyes were also closed. Charles continued reading, his voice soft, spinning a tale of a distant forest and the witch that lurked within.</p><p>When he finished, he looked up at Erik and smiled. "You can come and sit with us if you'd like. Jean is practicing her telepathy by showing us pictures, and I'm sure she'd appreciate another watcher."</p><p>The little girl nodded eagerly, her eyes snapping open, and Erik nodded and approached, moving to lean against Mortimer's chair. "I suppose I can listen for a little while."</p><p>That night, he carried Mortimer to his new bedroom, then returned to play another game of chess with Charles. It was strange - he'd never really had somewhere he considered a home, not that he could remember, and yet here with the children and Charles he felt a certain comfort settling inside his chest, almost disorientating in how it felt. Like belonging. Like home. </p><p>Charles smiled at him over the board. "You're staying then?"</p><p>"I didn't think you could read my thoughts."</p><p>"I can't, but you're projecting a sense of happiness... of comfort. I must commend you for... for how well the telepath created those walls of yours. They're impenetrable, and I still can't find what's hidden behind them, even now. But I can tell how much you care. How well you are doing with all of it. How you belong here. Erik, you and Mortimer can stay. You can have a good life."</p><p>"I want Mortimer to have a good life," Erik agreed, before looking at Charles a little more coldly. "But you don't understand. I could never have a good life while he is out there somewhere, a monster, lurking in the shadows of my nightmares. Creed is gone, but Stryker isn't. There are endless people who would hurt your children, for being gifted. They would hurt Mortimer if I gave up my hunt."</p><p>"If it's endless, you cannot do it all alone," Charles wheedled. "You can leave some of it to others, relax, show yourself kindness."</p><p>"I would not have to do it all alone if I had your companionship. We would make a good team, Charles. We could remove the monsters... Stop hiding in the shadows. You're not a child any more. Before, there was nothing you could really do. You were too young, you couldn't control your power. But we're adults now. There's hope. You can... you can help people. You can change things."</p><p>Charles looked at him almost sadly. "It really is all you care about, isn't it? You have a child who desperately needs your help, and your focus is on revenge."</p><p>"My focus is on hunting down the monsters that would hurt the children. Gifted or mutant. You hide because you can, but some of us can't. Some of us... have no control over how we are perceived."</p><p>Charles looked at him coldly. "Erik, I know what it is to be judged on my appearance. To be held to a standard I couldn't hope to control, because people look at me and think they know all that there is to know. I might not be a mutant, but to the eyes of so many I am also not fully human. I know more of what they go through than you might think." He made his next move on the chess board, acting more aggressively than normal.</p><p>"Then why not help them, Charles? You are so powerful, and you have the potential to be even more so."</p><p>"Because the best chance I have of helping them is to do so subtly. To make sure that they know that I am one of them, and not have them worry so much about what I am doing. I've been spending my whole life among scientists. Those I consider my friends, and those who would hurt me deeply given the chance. They are not all monsters, and those that are cannot be easily removed by my power."</p><p>"Monsters cannot be reasoned with," Erik answered, capturing one of Charles's knights. "Look at what happened to Creed. He was torn to shreds and that... that was a good thing. Because with a monster like that, the only way to manage it is to eliminate him. Doing nothing keeps yourself safe, but... but it hurts others."</p><p>Charles reached out, over the chess game, for one of Erik's hands. Erik hesitated for a moment before he offered his hand to Charles, letting him hold it, taking a few moments to just stare into each other's eyes. When Charles spoke, his voice was gentler than it had been before. "I know. I know that not acting directly sometimes costs our brethren their lives. I am so aware of that, every minute - and yet I feel I have no alternative. To act more boldly might win a battle, but it would not win a war."</p><p>"That's what you think." Erik stared at him. "But how much is because you are not willing to put yourself or the life you have achieved into danger? If you were willing to face risks, to see what happened...."</p><p>"If I did that, I risk losing all that I have worked for," Charles answered calmly, glancing down at their game. "And I do believe that was checkmate to me."</p><p>Erik stared at the board for a moment, pulling his hand from Charles's, not wanting the physical contact for what he was about to say. "And you're sure? That what you are doing is right?"</p><p>"Not sure. But as certain as I can be," Charles answered. "I know there are some monsters we need to tackle, but I cannot believe that fighting them publicly is the correct solution. Such an act risks alienating ourselves further and preventing us from being able to guard against future attacks... we can't do everything. And trying to save the most lives... sometimes it means sacrifices."</p><p>"Sometimes those sacrifices are too great," Erik answered, conceding the match, laying the king on its side. He stood up, going to walk from the room.</p><p>"Erik?" Charles called after him. "You've been fighting alone for a long time. But you have more people that care about you than you know."</p><p>"They deserve protection." Erik lingered in the doorway, looking away.</p><p>"They do," Charles said softly. "And I want to give them that. We can give them that. It's clear that what you have been doing - it benefits some of them, but for boys like Mortimer it isn't enough. Maybe we can do something better, together. We could offer mutants a chance to learn other skills, so they don't have to get by using their strange appearances, so they don't have to live all their time in fear..."</p><p>"The world you imagine sounds wonderful, Charles. But you saw how Creed harmed all that Logan had built. How could you protect this dream of yours from all the hardships of the world?"</p><p>"Because I would have a powerful mutant by my side, Erik. Someone who can use his control of metal to defend them, to destroy the weapons of anyone who approached. Who could keep out the monsters, not go out and fight them. We could win together, Erik, if you were willing to try."</p><p>"I'm not sure I am," Erik answered.</p><p>"We can talk another time. I can feel Mortimer shifting in his sleep - I think he's having a nightmare."</p><p>Erik walked away, going to comfort the youth, who was indeed in the grips of a nightmare. He held him close, Charles's words echoing in his mind.</p><p>Charles made it all sound so simple, but Erik knew it could never be that easy. There were monsters out there that had to be removed from the world, that needed to be eliminated. Charles was offering him a sanctuary and he couldn't accept it, because if he did, he would be turning his back on so many others in need. His own comfort would mean he abandoned children like Mortimer, and he refused to do that. </p><p> But Mortimer needed time to heal. Days drifted past, and the circus rebuilt, and he cleared some of the garden, and he spent more and more time with Charles. They played chess together and debated their goals, and Erik realised that he felt a little bit more certain that if they worked together then they would be able to achieve far more than either one of them was able to do alone. </p><p>Spending time with Charles felt... comfortable. Right. He grew used to watching Charles across a chessboard, knowing what it was that Charles was capable of, how strong he was if only he would put his abilities to full use. But he got used to seeing Charles with the children as well - treating both Jean and Mortimer with a tenderness that settled deep inside Erik.</p><p>One evening, they sat opposite each other, sipping from whisky glasses. Erik smiled at him. "You are a good parent, you know, Charles."</p><p>"I do what I can for those children," Charles agreed. "Jean is my pride and joy, she's a remarkable young lady, but the others as well... I have great hope for all of them going on to achieve more than I would be able to."</p><p>"My mother..." Erik began, then flinched a little. It was so long since he had thought of his parents. Still, he forced himself to consider it. "My mother used to say that the best we could hope for was that our children would live better lives than ourselves."</p><p>"You miss her?"</p><p>"I do. Stryker forced her to give me up. Creed... used to tell me he slaughtered her and my father, and I looked once I finally escaped Shaw's torture... he was telling the truth."</p><p>"But your hatred is directed to Shaw, not Creed?"</p><p>"Creed is an animal. He would always be violent. What matters are those who stood behind him, who directed him... and Shaw and Stryker did that. Shaw... he made my life a torment, and then when I escaped... he vanished. And I know him. I know he will not be happy unless he can continue his research, unless he can hunt down further test subjects. I want Shaw dead, but it's not out of hatred towards Shaw that I am driven, not really. I want the other mutants... I want them to know peace. I want them to be spared..." </p><p>Charles reached out again, his hand brushing Erik's. That gentle touch happened more frequently now, and Charles smiled at him. "Your parents sound like wonderful people."</p><p>"They were," Erik admitted. "You can see, if you would like." He closed his eyes, concentrating, using the method he had been taught to lower some of the walls around his memories. He felt the moment Charles entered his mind, directing him away from the worst of his suffering and towards moments of happiness, moments of joy. Charles deserved to see those things, the brightest and best parts of it rather than the worst. Charles shook his head fondly, his voice echoing in Erik's mind. </p><p>
  <i>I should like to see all of it, if I may.</i>
</p><p>Erik hesitated. There was so much he had kept hidden, so much of his anger and hatred towards Shaw that he had folded up inside his heart, blocked out from the surrounding world. And yet Charles was offering to look at it. With a deep breath, he nodded. <i>You may.</i></p><p>***</p><p>Charles wasn't sure what he had expected to find within Erik's memories. They had intrigued him, ever since the moment they had first met and he had found himself blocked from them. But being permitted access, being allowed to see what it was that the other man had concealed inside for so long - it was an honour and a privilege that would stay with him.</p><p>Erik had wanted to show him his parents, the family he had only a few precious memories of, and Charles used his gift to brighten them, strengthen them - not changing them in any way, but ensuring that they would last, that they would remain there for whenever Erik had need to contact them. He walked alongside Erik's parents in the woodland, ate sweet honeyed desserts, and watched in awe as young Erik helped his mother to light the hanukkiyah, the shammash gripped tightly in Erik's hand as his mother stood close behind him, guiding him from one candle to the next.</p><p>Precious memories, memories that explained the love and kindness that he had been certain Erik was capable of ever since he had realised the effort he had gone to to rescue Jean and Scott... but those memories didn't last.</p><p>He saw times when Erik had been caged at Stryker's circus, forced to keep small pieces of metal moving around to impress people. That he had slept curled up in the bottom of the cage, among the hay. Then he had been thrown in with Logan. Erik had been terrified at that time, but Logan had treated him with comparative tenderness, sharing his food, keeping him warm. He'd learned to try and feel positive about it, but then... then things had fallen apart. </p><p>He had been given over to Shaw, and then the pain had really started. The fear he had felt of Creed leering through the bars of his cage was nothing compared to how he felt towards Shaw. Shaw was a monster. One of the gifted, immensely powerful, unable to be harmed. Strong, and willing to use that however he wanted, training Erik to believe that the gifted were the true rulers, above humans and mutants. </p><p>He could feel how Erik had rejected that idea, held on and fought against him every moment he had, trying to cling to his own identity and work out who he was. He had clung to his identity, the memories of past kindness, and made himself a constant thorn in Shaw's side, no matter the pain. </p><p>And then he had escaped. He had escaped and gone out into the world, to get revenge. He'd sought out the chance to fight for mutants, to save them from the pain he had come to accept as his life. He'd dreamed of the day that he could get vengeance on Shaw.</p><p>Seeing the violence Erik had committed, because he had felt it was needed - that was something that would haunt Charles. But somewhere deep inside, there was still that little boy who had missed his family and taken what comfort he had. It was why he had tried to save the mutant children, to give them hope. Because he had dreamed of it when he was younger, and he wanted them to have that chance.</p><p>Erik thought that he was a monster, because he believed that Shaw had successfully shaped him into one. But he wasn't. He was a kind man, caring, far more so than he realised. He tried to keep others safe, even when he was in pain himself, because it was what felt right to him.</p><p>Erik was doing what he could to protect other mutants. It was just that the life he had lived had made him believe that the most helpful thing he could do to protect his own kind was to harm humans who posed a threat. it wasn't that Erik liked killing, it was that he felt it was necessary. </p><p>That knowledge made Charles feel even more for him than he had before. Because Erik had been shaped by the forces at work in his life, the monsters and those who had offered kindness. And through it all, he had remained Erik.</p><p>Charles wanted him. He knew that, and could ignore it. But he wanted also to find out who Erik could be, freed of the pressures of the life he had lived, knowing he was safe. But it was questionable how long he would be safe - Stryker after all had a teleporter, and while Erik had constructed a shield for their house, it might not be enough. </p><p>It had to be enough.</p><p>Charles realised with a slight flush of surprise that he had started to consider his home their house, with all that it meant. He pulled away from Erik's memories as tenderly as he could manage, offering him a kind smile. "Your parents were truly wonderful people."</p><p>"Thank you. And yours?"</p><p>"My father died when I was young. My stepfather and stepbrother were cruel... and my mother was lost in drink. My sister made it bearable, but... well, we parted ways. A difference of opinion." He wondered if Erik would have sided with Raven, for all that Erik had been the very reason he had chosen the route he had. He didn't want to know, didn't want to hear someone else disappointed in him. The path he had chosen to walk wasn't easy.</p><p>But it was needed. To throw your hat into the ring too early, to declare yourself publicly on the side of those that society considered monsters - it was dooming yourself, as much as anything. It wasn't that there weren't issues worthy of such sacrifice, more that you had to pick things carefully. So far Charles hadn't encountered anything that was worth risking his future on.</p><p>"I am sorry," Erik said, and Charles knew that was the truth. Erik did not pity him for his chair, or for his power. But he did pity him for the loneliness he had once known.</p><p>Charles shook his head. "It's getting late, and you should go to bed. I will see you in the morning."</p><p>"As you wish. Goodnight, Charles."</p><p>He watched Erik walk away, wondering what he could do. The threat posed by Stryker was a concern, and he knew there was a risk that the man would come and take whatever he had built. Worse than that, he knew Erik was going to be haunted by Shaw until he could be persuaded that the danger was past.</p><p>Charles fell asleep that night, considering what to do, and in the morning wrote a letter to a friend of his - Lady Frost, a beautiful young woman who had managed to use her gift to conceal her mutation from the knowledge of most. He asked for her to visit and received word back at lunch time that she would arrive in the evening.</p><p>He settled into his study, Jean coming in to sit near him and read one of her books. He watched Erik, busy with the gardening, and tried not to stare too obviously at him, not to let his thoughts drift off on dreams of what might one day be.</p><p>For a while, peace settled.</p><p>Peace that was broken by a loud sound, like an explosion, his pen rattling on his desk. HIs first panicked thought was that they were under attack, and he felt Erik jump up from where he was kneeling amongst the roses, rushing off in the direction of the sound. Knowing that he would not reach it in time, he sent Darwin and Alex to assist, slipping into the comfort of Erik's thoughts to discover what had happened.</p><p>Erik reached where Logan's partner, Hank, was standing. Scott was beside him, the boy covering his face with both arms and sobbing in distress. Before Charles could say anything, Erik had reached out, clumsily untying his cravat with his maimed hand and holding it out to the boy, speaking softly to him. Scott fumbled until he reached it, covering his eyes and taking a few deep, tearful breaths.</p><p>Erik lifted him, pressing a gentle kiss to the boy's forehead, and then turned to Hank. Charles could feel the anger slipping from Erik - anger born of concern for the boy that he was embracing. Certain that they weren't under attack, he made his way outside to try and restore a degree of calm.</p><p>Hank approached, a slightly guilty expression on his face as he looked over towards a large hole in a low garden wall. "I'm sorry, that was my fault. I asked young Scott to demonstrate his powers, and he was rather more skilled with them than I expected."</p><p>Scott was still sniffling, although Erik had relinquished him to Alex.</p><p>"Why are you destroying my masonry?"</p><p>"I was trying to understand how his ability worked. I believe... that there must be a way for him to control his mutation, either himself or by making use of other materials - he told me it was a beam of light, and I believe...there must be something in the refractory nature of it, but so far I have no more idea... I had hoped that by witnessing what he has the capacity to do, I could find a solution, but I appear to have misjudged it."</p><p>Erik shot a glare over at him, but Charles nodded - he could understand the scientific nature of the other man's inquiries, even if the end result had been rather more destructive than he would have liked. </p><p>"Perhaps we should remain in the realm of the theoretical for now. You are welcome to take a look at my library. Perhaps there is information there that would assist. And Scott, Alex, neither of you are in any trouble. I would however ask that any further experiments take place away from both masonry and the main house - I do not want to risk anyone getting hurt."</p><p>"Yes, Mister Charles," Scott mumbled, burrowing into his brother's embrace. Charles's heart ached for him, but he smiled and led Hank through to investigate the library.</p><p>Finding a man of scientific interests who had managed to be well-read despite the difficulties of his life proved to be a most pleasant afternoon's distraction, and he and Hank whiled away the afternoon discussing scientific progress. He promised the other man use of his library whenever he would wish for it, and the two of them were deep in discussion about different theories for the origin of mutation when Lady Frost arrived.</p><p>"Emma, it's lovely to see you..." Charles greeted her with a smile, as she crouched down to embrace him tightly for a moment. "Thank you for coming to see me."</p><p>"You clearly needed my assistance, and it would be churlish of me to refuse..." Emma answered, a playful smile on her face. Charles treasured his friendship with Lady Frost - both because she shared a mutation similar to his own, and because she was a lady who understood the importance of timing things well - whilst Erik would hurl himself head first at any obstacle he found, she would try to find her way around it, manipulating individuals until she got the result that she wanted. </p><p>She looked at him curiously, following him over to the dining table, as Charles sent out a thought to assemble the rest of his family. "I see the circus is in town."</p><p>"Logan's troop are staying with us temporarily," Charles agreed with a slight sigh. "Needs must and all that."</p><p>"I see..." She gave him a sympathetic smile, as he pushed forwards information about what had happened. He felt her attention catch, and she regarded him curiously. "You know Erik?"</p><p>"He's staying here at the moment," Charles answered, not going into detail about their relationship, but getting a knowing look from Emma nonetheless. He paused. "You know him?"</p><p>"Who do you think constructed his shields?" Emma asked. "I've had reason to ask his assistance before, and that was what he wished for in repayment."</p><p>Charles couldn't imagine Emma Frost, lady and socialite, needing assistance for anything - she had left behind her a trail of broken hearts. Knowingly, she gave a shrug. </p><p>"He rescued my brother. My father had him institutionalised for his inclinations, and because he did not live up to the Frost family name. Erik was obliging enough to rescue him, and for that I am in his debt. I do hope you aren't planning on asking me to cause him any injury..."</p><p>"No, not in the least..." Charles smiled at her fondly. "The shields you constructed for him are really rather excellent, I must commend you for your work..."</p><p>"From you, that truly is a compliment," Lady Frost answered. "Now, your family are here. We can talk business later, I do hope you don't expect me to make nice with your children for too long."</p><p>"Of course not," Charles answered, calling in his family. Emma did at least show a little fondness towards Jean, but could barely hide her revulsion at Mortimer. </p><p>Her mind brushed Charles's. <i>I know I always say children are unpleasantly slimy, but he's ridiculous.</i></p><p><i>Be nice. Mortimer risked his life to save Erik, and he is a guest here,</i> Charles reprimanded. Erik and Emma greeted each other warmly, and the meal passed without incident. Afterwards, Erik went to see the children to bed, promising to soon return to the drawing room, and Emma and Charles were left alone.</p><p>"Why did you really ask me here, Charles?"</p><p>"I want to know where Doctor Shaw is. The memory of him haunts Erik. I have to know. And if anyone might know, it's you. I want to locate Stryker, but he's got a teleporter. As far as I know, Shaw hasn't."</p><p>"I can tell you where he's staying," Emma answered. "But for Erik... Shaw borders on an obsession. A monomania. You tell him this, and you might lose him for good. I've seen the way you watch him, Charles, and I'm not sure if you're willing to let him slip away."</p><p>"I have to be," Charles said firmly. "Erik deserves to know."</p><p>The door to the study opened, and Erik walked in, his mind brushing Charles's in greeting. </p><p>Charles cursed himself for focusing on Emma, whilst she sat back with a knowing smile on her face. He realised she had planned this - that she had known that Erik would arrive, and had planned for him to overhear. He didn't know what to say, how to answer the question that was hanging in the air. He knew he didn't want to lose Erik. But he'd been right with what he'd said before - Erik needed to know.</p><p>Erik's eyes met his. <i>I deserve to know what, Charles?</i></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for all the feedback and encouragement! Your comments mean a lot to me! Huge thanks to my amazing beta InsertSthMeaningful!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Erik had known there was a reason other than convenience that Charles had asked him to put the children to bed that night, but he hadn't minded - he adored the children, and caring for them was by no means a burden.</p><p>The children were a pleasure, and they deserved reassurance. Scott was exhausted, apparently overwhelmed after the experiments he had been participating in with Hank, and Jean was in a mischievous mood, and both of them were wonderful and innocent, and Erik knew that Charles would do all he could to ensure they remained safe.</p><p>Then there was Mortimer. Older than the others and used to the cruelties of the world, and yet capable of compassion and devotion. Definitely, he was glad to spend his time with all three of them. But there was the knowledge that he had been given the task to keep him from the others.</p><p>That in itself wasn't necessarily a problem, more a fact of life around telepaths. But to return to them deep in discussion about him... that caused concern. Especially when he had reached the door in time to hear Charles demand he was given knowledge. </p><p>Lady Frost - Emma - regarded him with a cold smile. Erik knew how she worked - she was always out for herself, first and foremost. That didn't mean she was bad, or unkind, or cruel. But she was determined. And if he had overheard her, it was because that was her intention.</p><p>She gazed up at him, a smile on her lips, as Charles glared towards the fire. He relaxed, taking a deep breath, tension flowing from him in a way that was almost believable. </p><p>"What do I deserve to know?" Erik repeated, anger flaring at the fact Charles hadn't spoken in answer to his question.</p><p>"Emma has information about Shaw's whereabouts," Charles told him, and then Erik could see Charles's mouth was moving but he couldn't hear it, drowned out by his heartbeat thundering, the knowledge loud in his mind because Shaw was in his grasp. Alongside it, quiet but real, was a spike of fear - the realisation that if he was able to reach Shaw, Shaw would be able to reach him.</p><p>He could feel all the metal of the room with a fresh intensity, aware of what he could hone into a weapon. A chess piece fell over as his mind spun with memories of being Shaw's prize exhibit, and his hand ached as though the wound was fresh. He made himself breathe through it. He was in a room with two telepaths, he couldn't afford to panic. Emma watched him coldly while Charles's eyes were filled with concern, which was worse.</p><p>Silence hung in the air, and Emma reached out, taking a delicate sip from her teacup. Charles continued to watch him in silence, and he knew it was on him to speak, but for the moment words dodged out of his reach. He took a couple of slow breaths, before he began to speak, his voice as steady as he could make it.</p><p>"I want to go and find him."</p><p>"Why?" Charles asked, and that question stunned him. He felt like he was being shoved off of his feet. It just wasn't comprehensible, didn't make sense as a question. How could Charles ask why. Charles knew how Shaw had treated him. How he would treat others of their kind. Knew that Shaw needed to be gone. </p><p>"The world would be better off without him."</p><p>"The world would be better off with you safe, Erik. You hold yourself to too high a standard." Charles smiled at him naively. "You don't need to fight every monster. We can let Logan know where he is, and he can deal with him, and you can stay here with me and the children, and-" </p><p>Erik stared at him. He couldn't imagine anything worse than handing Logan over to Shaw, certain that the scientist would take a great deal of interest in Logan's healing abilities. It was so easy for him to picture - Logan tied down and screaming as Shaw carried out his experiments. And unlike Erik, he wouldn't get the occasional rest as his body tried to heal itself, because he healed instantly. He thought of the kindness Logan had shown him when he'd been barely aware of being alive, and was horrified at the idea Charles would be willing to risk Logan enduring the nightmare he would face if Shaw reached him.</p><p>"No. He can't go. It has to be me."</p><p>"What if something happens to you, Erik? It's selfish, it's-"</p><p>"I'm helping people, Charles. I'm making sure no one ever... no one ever has to face that madman, not again. And the only way we can do that... I have to be the one to go." His heart was racing in his chest, and he wanted to run to safety but he couldn't, because he had to do what was right. Not what was easy, or what was safe, but what needed to be done. He didn't know how Charles was failing to understand that, how he could possibly act as though all that Erik was doing was some game, some selfish goal.</p><p>Yes, Erik would sleep better with Shaw removed from the world. He would stop jumping at every shadow. But that wasn't why he was doing this, wasn't why he wanted to end him. He wanted to end him so that the children here would never know the terror that was his constant waking companion.</p><p>He rubbed anxiously at his damaged hand, staring at Charles.</p><p>"What if you get hurt? What do I tell Mortimer?" Charles asked, and Emma took another sip of her tea, and Erik found himself overwhelmed with frustration at know-it-all telepaths who insisted they knew better for him than he did. He refused to just roll over and play happy families with Charles when their kind were out there suffering.</p><p>"Tell him to be better than me. Tell him I did it so he could be free. Now, where is Shaw?"</p><p>He felt the knowledge pressed into his mind, inelegantly shoved rather than placed with the delicacy Charles used. Emma's handiwork then.</p><p>He had the information he needed. He was grateful for Charles, for all that he had done, for the kindness he had shown and how he had helped him. But the simple fact was that Erik would not know freedom until Shaw was dead by his hand, and if Charles was willing to use Mortimer to force him to stay... he couldn't allow that. Couldn't accept it. He was grateful for Charles, for the kindness he showed, for the hospitality he had turned his captivity into, but between pleasing Charles and destroying Shaw, there was no real choice.</p><p>He had what he needed, the information that Charles might have kept from him. He turned and walked away. He didn't need to stop and grab anything, nor to say goodbye. He would either return victorious, or not return at all. Either way, he wasn't going to linger a moment longer when he had the answer he had sought for so long.</p><p>***</p><p>Charles stared at Emma, trying to work out how everything had gone downhill so very quickly, how the moment had turned from him arguing on Erik's side to driving him away. Emma simply smiled and took another sip of her tea. </p><p>"You really mustn't worry so, darling."</p><p>"He's going to find Shaw. I can feel it."</p><p>"You can stop him, can't you?" she asked, teasing, and Charles hated how tempting it was because she was right. He couldn't rewrite Erik's thoughts, but he knew from past experience he could force him to be unable to step outside of a single room if he wished it.</p><p>But he couldn't do that. Not to Erik, not when he knew that Erik would despise him for it, that he would be cutting him off, pushing him away. It hurt, knowing that Erik was leaving him, but there was no solution that was better. </p><p>Erik was so convinced that his way was the only one, that he had to fight this battle alone. But Charles knew that when people walked off like that, they didn't come back. Erik wasn't the first person that Charles had driven away with his ethics, with his determination to play the long game rather than rush.</p><p>"What are you going to do, darling?" Frost purred, and he wanted to hit her, to scream, but he held it in because deep down he knew that this was his own doing. "You could follow him."</p><p>"He's an adult," Charles said firmly. "I have the circus here, and my children. I can't... I can't risk it all, chasing after his memories." He'd made his choice long ago, when his sister had left him, screaming at him about forcing her to pass as a respectable young lady, trying to make her march down a path that she didn't wish to. Raven was gone, sneaking out in the middle of the night, and she hadn't been seen since. He knew in the end the same would happen with Erik, but he'd let himself dream.</p><p>He wasn't willing to let his future slide. He couldn't risk what might happen in order to pretend at normality, no matter how much he wanted it. Erik, Raven, both of them were distractions from his plan. He hated the thought of losing Erik, but he couldn't force him to stay.</p><p>Emma watched him, the look on her face implying that she had heard every one of his thoughts. He wanted to scream at her, to show her how little he appreciated her sitting there and watching in silent judgement. But he knew that wasn't going to help. He swallowed dryly and nodded.</p><p>"I think it might be best if you were to leave, Lady Frost."</p><p>"As you wish." The lady smiled, getting to her feet and offering him a little curtsey. He inclined his head in an imitation of a bow, watching her walk, and sending out an instruction to Alex to see her out. He hesitated, suddenly uncertain, and pushed into her mind, fearing some sign that she could be working for Shaw. But there was none, only her mild disdain at his intrusion. He pulled away and reluctantly prepared for bed, knowing that in the  morning he would have to face the children and explain to them why Erik had left. </p><p>The answer to that question was simple. He'd driven him away. He thought of trying to explain that to Mortimer, who regarded Erik as something close to a saint, or to Scott or Jean, who considered him a friend. He thought of Logan, sniffing at him and challenging him on driving the boy away. </p><p>The house had always been large. He was born into it. Used to it. And yet that night, as he lay in bed, it felt larger and emptier than ever, the minds of the others distant. He shivered, fighting back nightmares and trying to focus on being strong. With Erik gone, and Stryker and Azazel still out there, it fell on him to keep them all safe. He couldn't sleep so deeply he missed the approach of another mind.</p><p>The next couple of days passed in a haze. He knew it fell on him to lead, and yet he didn't wish to - he wished to wallow in his regrets, to focus on what he had lost. His feelings for Erik burned as strongly as they ever had, but now he knew for certain that they were doomed to failure - that there would be no chance for him.</p><p>He tried to chastise himself for such foolish notions. There was no hope for him in any way. Erik had never given a sign of thinking of him as more than a friend, and he could hardly push for more when he realised how he had sent the other man away, driven him off because he had not understood... only it felt to him that he had understood. He'd wanted Erik safe, and knew that devoting himself to the pursuit of his enemy would bring him no real comfort.</p><p>Hank and Scott were working on a solution to Scott's unique problem, and Mortimer seemed to have made himself scarce, lurking in the shadows like a ghost.</p><p>"Mortimer?" Charles called out one day, when the fears from the boy became too loud to ignore. He found Mortimer's thoughts emanating from what had been Erik's room, but at first glance the space looked empty. Mortimer was crouched by the ceiling.</p><p>"Come down from there," Charles instructed, and the boy did as he was bid, jumping down and landing beside him. Charles straightened in his chair and nodded. "Thank you for joining me, Mortimer. I haven't seen much of you around the past few days."</p><p>"I weren't sure if I were in the way or nothin'..." Mortimer mumbled, gazing down. "If Mistah... If Mistah Erik don't want me, then I didn't... I didn' wanna get thrown out with nowhere ta go, I'm sorry..."</p><p>"You do not need to be sorry, Mortimer. I am the one who has wronged you here. I should have been clearer to you. You are welcome here, with or without Erik's presence. Your presence is... most welcome. You do not need to fear me asking you to leave."</p><p>"For real?"</p><p>"Yes, Mortimer. You are a brave boy, and I know my children like you. I am happy for you to stay, and help out if you wish, until Erik's return - and after," Charles added quickly, before the boy's thoughts had the opportunity to spiral in their concern. "I believe that they will gain a lot from having you there, if you are willing to stay."</p><p>"Always, Mistah. I'll work real hard, an' you won't regret it."</p><p>"Thank you, Mortimer." Charles would have loved to reassure the boy, but not knowing if or when Erik would return, it seemed this was the closest compromise he could achieve for now. He smiled at him fondly. "You are doing well here, and I am glad that you are with us."</p><p>"Thank you, Mistah." Mortimer beamed, and accompanied Charles down to the kitchen.</p><p>"Do you want some food, Mortimer? I might ask Alex to make me a light lunch, would you wish to join me?"</p><p>"Please, Mistah..." Mortimer agreed, and Charles looked at him curiously.</p><p>"You have been eating, haven't you?"</p><p>"Scraps an' stuff, and I help out at the circus with their food an' things..." Mortimer answered nervously. "I didn't want to be a bother..."</p><p>Charles made himself smile, even as his heart ached with unspoken anger at himself. He'd let the dear boy down. "You are always most welcome to take whatever food you require, Mortimer."</p><p>The boy grinned and grabbed a few slices of bread off from a nearby table. </p><p>After that, Charles tried a little harder to focus on those around him, listening to Jean, meeting Logan and working on communicating with friends. At night, he would lie in bed and reach out with his mind, but he was yet to feel the presence of Erik's thoughts. His range wasn't far enough. He hoped that wherever Erik was, he was safe.</p><p>He knew Logan was getting anxious, relying on his hospitality, but he did not want to force the other man to leave. They could take as long as was necessary for things to fall into place. Charles was sure if he was questioned about it, by Essex or any other human acquaintances of his own, he would be able to use his powers to prevent them asking too many questions.</p><p>In the end, the first human that contacted him was a woman by the name of Moira MacTaggert, who he had met through Emma and provided with assistance a few years before. At the time, Moira had run away from her husband, who was a drunkard and a brute, bringing with her her infant son. Now, the boy was six, and despite the shame that Moira had brought, Charles had been able to find her a job as a school ma'am at a boarding school for young ladies. </p><p>It was a job which Mrs MacTaggert had applied herself to with a great deal of determination and skill. Charles corresponded with her occasionally, but he had thought their lives had parted ways. Looking at her letter now, he knew that they had not.</p><p>"Dearest Charles,<br/>I do hope you forgive me for writing to you so suddenly, but I am in desperate need of your assistance. I am aware of your persuasive ability and that it is shared with Lady Frost, and I know of your interest in mutants. Two of the young ladies in my care have need of your guidance - they are gifted, and yet their gifts cause them particular pain. I hope that you will confirm your willingness to assist them. If so, I shall bring them to you within the next week.</p><p>Kitty Pryde, one of our younger students, has begun to walk through walls. This in itself would not necessarily require intervention, but the poor child has night terrors, and so it is not unusual for her to run through the other girls' rooms screaming. As you can imagine, this is causing widespread chaos. </p><p>As for Miss Anna-Marie, the poor girl is distraught. Her even brushing against the other students sickens them, and when she tried to hold Kitty's hand to prevent her falling through a stair, Kitty fainted. She has been ordered never to remove her gloves and moved to a separate building, but I am most concerned for her. </p><p>Please, if you are able to help these girls, do let me know. I am at my wits end, and although there are others who claim to have an awareness of the issues that the gifted experience, I should rather the girls go to someone who knows what they are going through.</p><p>Yours, M. MacTaggert"</p><p>He did not have it within him to refuse her request for assistance. He wrote back, confirming that the girls would be welcome to visit for at least a short while, and then went to spend time with Jean, helping her to learn to control her own power. He knew that his adoptive daughter had the potential to be immensely powerful. He simply hoped he would be able to help her control her ability.</p><p>She smiled up at him sadly. "Papa, Erik is coming back, isn't he? I know that Mortimer misses him."</p><p>Charles nodded. "Of course he is, dear. Now, don't you worry about that, why don't you see if you can use your telekinesis to strike this match?"</p><p>Jean's forehead creased in concentration, as she tried to do as she was asked, and Charles pushed aside thoughts of Erik and of others. His family was here, and he had to help them.</p><p>***</p><p>Logan didn't like being in Charles's garden. He felt like the remains of his circus were cluttering up the place, especially now that with Piotr's help they'd got the surviving caravans all lined up, repairs being carried out by different mutants. He wasn't sure about staying. It felt like he was trapped, and a lifetime of bad experiences had taught Logan that he didn't like to be trapped.</p><p>There were a few things that were bugging him. Most of all, he didn't get why Azazel had betrayed him. The two of them had known each other for a few years, and had worked together. They'd been close ever since Azazel had arrived, fresh from Shaw's lab and made a star for his unnatural appearance.</p><p>Azazel wasn't a traitor. He was out for himself, sure, and he was smart, but he wouldn't betray people who he trusted, people who were good to him. Weren't good for him, or for them, and he didn't... he wasn't like that. Logan knew it. But he'd worked for Stryker.</p><p>And that didn't make sense. </p><p>He'd looked tired, sure. Unhappy. But there'd been no sign of what he was going to do, no indication that he had chosen to betray them. And Logan didn't like it when things didn't make sense.</p><p>Azazel had been accepted at the circus. It wasn't like there were many places out there that a guy like Azazel would be treated with anything other than abject cruelty, but he prided himself in running one of the best. He'd offered Azazel hope. And he'd thought Azazel was as loyal as any of the mutants he surrounded himself with.</p><p>Hank's hand fell heavy on his shoulder, and he leaned back against him.<br/>"Stop blaming yourself," Hank told him gently. "You couldn't have known. You've done what you can for all of them."</p><p>"Didn't know I was with a telepath," Logan sighed, nuzzling into Hank's side. Hank's fingers raked through his hair. "Thought you were in the library."</p><p>"Came back and you're changing the topic. I don't need to be a telepath."</p><p>"Keep thinking what if Victor's there, watching. I mean, he won't be. I don't... I don't know if he's gone for good, but even if he's not, it'll be years. But..."</p><p>"You're afraid." Hank sighed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "You want to keep all of us safe and you don't know if you can."</p><p>Logan groaned out a quiet protest at the way Hank was able to circle straight in on his emotions. He never knew how to deal with that. He pulled away after a moment, taking a steadying breath. "How do people feel about leaving?" He knew sometimes people would go to Hank, not him, both because Hank wasn't their boss and because of his looks.</p><p>"It's a real mixture. Glob and a few others want to get moving, Angel too - some of them love performing, and others aren't keen on staying in one place. But there are a few who are nervous - Kurt's still jumpy. I walked up behind him yesterday by accident and he teleported away."</p><p>Logan knew that he couldn't impose on Charles's hospitality for too long, and he resented feeling trapped. Still, he felt a little anxious at going out when Stryker was still out there somewhere. It was easy to tell himself that any trouble could be met with his claws. But Azazel's betrayal still stung. "And the girls?"</p><p>"Laura's excited. Jace... Jace is scared, but... I think Kurt is helping her," Hank reassured, and Logan tried to fight down another flare of anger at the fact that Creed had hurt someone who was so determined to be good. He knew Kurt prayed for them - all of them. He thought it was a waste of breath, but Kurt meant it. "Mortimer's certain about staying here."</p><p>"Good," Logan answered. He liked Mortimer - the boy was smart and hard-working. But he wasn't a natural performer, and he got spooked too easy. "What about you?"</p><p>"I need a couple of days to work on my current project," Hank told him. "I'm sure that there must be some way I can help that boy."</p><p>"My genius..." Logan wanted to be on the road. Staying in one place felt too much like a cage to him. But he knew he couldn't just make that decision for all of them. "Ask around. See what the mood is. Sooner we can strike our own path, the better."</p><p>Hank leaned in and kissed his cheek, then pulled back. "I'll see what I can do."</p><p>Logan nodded, stretching and then going to track down his daughter, unsurprised to find her half-way up a tree. "Laura, be careful."</p><p>"There's a bird's nest up here, Papa."</p><p>"Come down..." He ordered. She looked down and shook her head, and he could sense the moment her scent spiked with fear - it wasn't really that far to fall, but it felt like a long way at that moment.</p><p>"You can do it," He told her. She whined uncertainly, and he glanced around, hoping he wouldn't have to ascend the tree himself. Before he could become too panicked, there was a brief burst of blue smoke, and Kurt was stood before him, Laura in his arms. "Thank you, Kurt."</p><p>"Could not let the little lady be scared now." Kurt shrugged playfully. "I do not vant for zere to be any fear that I could spare us from."</p><p>"Thank you, Kurt," Logan repeated sincerely. "How are you feeling?" </p><p>"Eager to perform. Miss Angel has been helping me practice as an acrobat. Perhaps I can show you?"</p><p>"I'd like that," Logan agreed, taking Laura along. Kurt scurried up some makeshift scaffolding that had been set up so that they could work on their routines. The boy was barefoot, using his tail for balance as he bounded along. He jumped from one bar to another with unnatural grace.</p><p>Angel had done well, spotting the boy's form and balance. He wasn't just gifted with teleportation, but was also a naturally skilled acrobat, flipping through the air and catching himself with his tail, without even the use of teleportation. He landed on the ground with an elaborate bow, and Logan snorted, clapping. "Good work, kid."</p><p>"Danke." Kurt grinned, twisting his tail with a flourish.</p><p>A moment later, Charles's mind brushed Logan's. <i>I need you to find Hank.</i></p><p>
  <i>I just saw him.</i>
</p><p><i>He says he's lost,</i> Charles replied, before pressing forwards a sense of where Hank was. Logan followed the instructions, and saw Hank was standing just nearby their caravan, but he looked completely lost. Inside the caravan, Logan could sense Scott, and the butterfly-fast racing of Jace's heart.</p><p>"Hank?" Logan asked, walking over and reaching his hand out to shake Hank's shoulder. </p><p>Hank snapped back to reality, looking at him with faint surprise. "You know, I don't think that Jace likes science. I was helping Scott and then... then the world seemed to disappear, and I thought it safer to stay still and call Charles."</p><p>"You did the right thing... I'll go and get her." Logan knew he couldn't be tricked as easily as some by the girl, as her gift was not fully effective on his heightened senses. More than that though, he liked to think that he and Jace got on well.</p><p>Inside the caravan, Scott had his face shielded against his knees, while Jace was curled up under a blanket.</p><p>"Jace?"</p><p>"Are you mad at me?" she asked, and even at this distance he could tell she was trembling.</p><p>"Not mad. Concerned why you messed with Hank's head."</p><p>"He was doing an experiment..." she whispered. "Experiments hurt. I didn't like it when Papa... he made a hole in my neck..." She sniffled, and Logan held out his arms, letting her curl up against him. He'd seen that scar. She whimpered. "He said... he said I was special,. Because if he took it and injected it into someone else they had to do what he said but I... I didn't want to."</p><p>"You're not in trouble," he promised her, reaching out for Charles's mind, because this felt like the kind of thing he needed to let him know, to check if he understood it right. Because if what she was saying was the truth, then her illusion powers went further than he thought - far enough to explain the sudden betrayal of a friend.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the late update, today has been a lot. Hope you are all doing well, and please comment if you'd like!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There was no update last week due to various personal issues, but there is a Christmas fic now in this series! Take care of yourself everyone.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Leaving Charles behind ached. There was no other word for it - the constant pressure, like a gaping wound, as Erik journeyed on. And yet he knew that he had to continue, because Charles was not safe in a world in which Shaw lived. None of them were.</p><p>He had what he needed. Locations, routines. Details he could use. Information about Shaw's current townhouse. He journeyed into the city, and spent a few days observing in silence. It was easy enough to rent a room in the building opposite, to watch Shaw's routine without being observed.</p><p>The first time he saw Shaw's figure step from the house he was watching, he was overcome with a wave of nausea. For years, he had simply assumed he had moved on, that the man no longer held power over him - and yet seeing him standing there, he was a frightened little experiment again.</p><p>He might have hoped to have run in and fought him immediately, to purge the earth of one more monster. But he needed time to gather himself, to plan - rushing in without preparation could seal his doom as easily as free him. If nothing else, Mortimer would want him to return.</p><p>He had to survive this. So he lurked in the shadows, watching Shaw's comings and goings, promising himself that when the time came, he would be ready.</p><p>He watched Shaw get into a horse drawn cab, heading off to the theatres and music halls for an evening of drinking and gambling. He waited until he was certain Shaw was gone, and then he approached the back entrance of the house. He found himself smiling when he realised the door's locking mechanism was created mostly of flint, an attempt to keep him out - but not sufficient, for he could easily weave a small strand of metal into it, twist it around each pin and force it open.</p><p>The door swung open silently, and he hesitated for a moment on the threshold.</p><p>He could hear the distant sound of servants, but he paid them no heed - whoever they were, poor wretches or willing accomplices, they were not the reason that he had come. He knew that the answers he was seeking would be in the basement - proof of what he had failed to prevent.</p><p>Erik knew if he'd managed to kill the man years ago, in his escape, he could have put an end to his cruelty. And yet he had failed, and every one of his kind that had suffered since rested on his shoulders. He headed down the stairs, ears straining for any sign that he was caught.</p><p>Shaw at least tended to be fairly tidy in his experiments. Once he had learned what he wished to from someone, unless they were one of his special test subjects, they were slaughtered or sold on. Erik knew he wasn't going to be facing rows of corpses, or anything similar.</p><p>He could feel chains, warmed with body heat, and he closed his eyes and tore them from the wall with his power, lowering the figure within them to the floor, before he unfastened them from delicate wrists. The door to the cell was locked, and so he continued his search, sick from the knowledge that when he found them, he'd want to get them out, and that doing so would reveal his presence. Yet he couldn't leave them prisoner. Couldn't force another mutant or gifted to experience what he had been through.</p><p>Perhaps it would be enough to free them, to have Shaw waiting. Looking over his shoulder with more certainty even than before, with the knowledge he was being watched. If not... if not, then Erik would accept whatever it came to. This mutant was suffering and it was his fault. He couldn't leave them there. </p><p>He searched. There were books here that could have been useful, but he felt no need to take them now - this either ended in Shaw destroyed, or him dead. Either he would have time to take them later, or he'd be gone... he considered just destroying the books, but he didn't know what they would reveal in the right hands. </p><p>He continued to examine the laboratory. He saw a handful of things he did recognise, metal objects he had crafted in his youth, and he wanted to destroy them. But he made himself focus, continuing along until he reached the cell. He could feel the chains were cold now.</p><p>He opened the cell, and saw there was no one inside. He could feel carriages passing in the street, and he couldn't help feeling trapped, painfully aware of what would happen if Shaw caught him here. He'd tried to save someone and he had failed, and now he had to get out before Shaw returned.</p><p>He felt like a child again. This was a different house from the one he'd known, but enough felt familiar that his skin was crawling.</p><p>He rushed from the basement and up the stairs, letting himself out of the back door. He returned to the room he had taken across the road, gathering up his things, tempted to run.</p><p>He didn't know where he was intending to run too. There was nowhere for him to go, other than Charles's manor, and Shaw would know he had visited. Returning to Charles now would simply doom them both. Better to fight on, to be strong and stand his ground. That way he either won, or he fell alone.</p><p>He waited in the shadows, as dark fell and the streets filled with people hurrying by, not knowing the beast that lurked in their midst. He watched until the darkest hour, when a carriage stopped outside Shaw's house, and he stepped outside. Even at this distance, Erik could recognise the poise of the man, and the  metal-tipped cane he always carried, topped with a griffin made of silver. Erik's fingers itched to destroy that symbol, to melt it. But doing so would leave Shaw even more certain of his presence, and fear stayed his hand.</p><p>He didn't know if he could do this alone. But he had no choice, not now. His chance had passed him by when he had followed the lead without asking Charles for help. Charles didn't deserve to be dragged into this. His wounded hand flashed hot with pain, and he froze in the darkness beside the window, half-expecting Shaw to turn and see him.</p><p>By the time the man stepped inside, Erik was trembling. He stumbled the few steps to his bed, and lay down, still dressed, his powers straining to track the metal of Shaw's belt and cane and pocket watch. It would not do to be caught unprepared. It would not be safe if Shaw was able to find him, and he was not ready to fight back.</p><p>Sleep did not come easy that night as terror and memory held them in his sway.</p><p>***</p><p>Logan had decided to leave. He appreciated all Charles had done, but he didn't like being there as his guest. It risked bringing trouble on Charles, and worse - it left him feeling vulnerable. His circus always travelled, always moved. He could feel several of the others getting twitchy, hating being trapped. He felt the same.</p><p>When he went to find Charles, he found the man sat with his daughter and Mortimer, Jean patiently showing the boy how to read. A short distance away was Scott - now wearing a pair of dark red glasses that hid his eyes. He nodded his greeting to them.</p><p>Charles looked up at him and smiled. "This place is always a home for you, Logan, if you want it. But we both knew you weren't planning to stay. Go, be free. I don't want to cage you. Go and find out what you need to do."</p><p>"Thank you." Logan felt a faint glow of relief. "Illyana and her brother have said they'll join us for now, and with Blink's help we should be safe from any threats that emerge... if not, well, we'll tackle that when it comes to it." He swallowed, shifting his weight. "Thank you for everything, Chuck."</p><p>"It's alright."</p><p>"Mistah Logan?" Mortimer asked, looking up nervously. "Do I gotta..."</p><p>"Stay here, kid. Erik's gonna come back at some point, and he's gonna need you," Logan said firmly, seeing the relief on the boy's face. "But you should say bye to Kurt proper, he's gonna miss you."</p><p>"I'm gonna miss him too."</p><p>"He's a teleporter," Logan muttered, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "I wouldn't get too choked up on it, you know? He'll be back 'fore you know it."</p><p>"Thank you. Mistah Logan, thank you for everythin'." Mortimer stood from his strange half-crouch, shoulders hunched as he walked the short way to him. He reached out and embraced Logan for a moment, trembling. </p><p>Logan hugged him in return. "You keep an eye on this lot for me, okay kid?"</p><p>"Yeah." Mortimer nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up with having a purpose, and Logan grinned. </p><p>"Go say bye to everyone, I wanna get this show on the road."</p><p>Mortimer scurried off, and Charles turned to Logan. "You're a good man, Logan."</p><p>"I don't pretend to be anythin' I ain't," Logan answered. "I hear Hank fixed your boy up?"</p><p>"Alex's brother," Charles corrected, as though he wasn't caring for the mutant. "He did."</p><p>"You sure about keepin' Mortimer? He's pretty obviously a freak."</p><p>"He's not at home with you, Logan. And he's showing potential. And anyway... I want Erik to know how much more there is to himself than his hatred, and Mortimer is a way of unlocking that."</p><p>"You got it bad, Chuck," Logan said softly, but he dropped the subject - pushing Charles into trying to admit his feelings would only end badly. </p><p>What followed was familiar, the chaos of gathering up everything to move on. The injuries that his brother had left on most of them had healed, and while he was afraid of Stryker, he couldn't just hide himself away in Chuck's house forever. They both would struggle with that.</p><p>He wanted to be free. He hated being caged, and Chuck's house was just another cage, no matter how nice. The day after he decided he was leaving, he was gone. They left Chuck's lawns a bit of a mess, but otherwise there was no sign of them - he'd come back when he had to. But for now, what mattered was the performance.</p><p>Blink arranged for them to emerge near a new town, and it didn't take long to drum up an audience - enough for a small show that first night, cheap tickets if you'd tell a friend. It felt good to perform.</p><p>What his group did now was a world away from when they had been imprisoned in Stryker's cages. They were free, able to do what they wished, and it was a celebration. The humans watched them in awe and wonder, not like animals. Watching Laura bow, to the crowd's applause, Logan felt more certain than ever in what he had done by leaving Charles. Charles was a good man, but he couldn't be free there, not like he was here.</p><p>He set up guards around the perimeter once all the humans had left, and went to check on Kurt. He knocked on the door of his caravan, and the youth opened it with a nervous smile. "Hallo."</p><p>"Hey there, Kurt. How you doing?"</p><p>"I'm okay, danke, Mister Logan. Miss Angel was saying zat she is a little afraid, as am I, so we thought maybe we could stay together for a little while, and keep each other safe."</p><p>"That sounds good, kid. I'm right nearby, you get any problem at all, you scream and I'll be there, okay?"</p><p>"Danke." Kurt nodded, his tail twisting in his hands. Behind him, Angel sat brushing her hair, one arm still recovering from how Creed had gripped her. </p><p>"Night, Kurt. You need anything-"</p><p>"If we need anything, we vill let you know. Thank you." Kurt smiled, and Logan closed the door, taking a few deep breaths. He knew Jace was with Laura, Hank putting the two of them to bed, and most of the others were getting ready to rest. He just felt uneasy. He couldn't fight the animal instinct inside of him, telling him to guard his group, to make sure there was no danger threatening. He surrendered to it, pacing around the camp, claws out and ready to face any threat.</p><p>When a burst of smoke appeared in front of him, he was ready to attack, snarling and moving into a crouch.</p><p>He paused when he took in who was there - Azazel, yes, but in his arms was a man Logan had not seen before. The man was thin and injured, his eyes closed and arms wrapped around Azazel's shoulders. Azazel was holding him tenderly, one hand stroking through dark strands of hair. He looked up and met Logan's eyes.</p><p>"I need your help."</p><p>"I don't see no good reason why I don't gut you, bub," Logan answered, flexing his claws. Azazel nodded, making a gesture to move his hands, but pausing as the man in his arms shifted.</p><p>"I know. I did... much wrong to you. But I want chance to explain. To apologise. And anyway, Janos needs your help. If after I explain you tell me go, I will go. You will never see me again. But I hope that it will not come to that. I hope you will understand."</p><p>"I understand you're a traitor. You were working for Stryker."</p><p>"Yes," Azazel answered. "And I do not regret that. Perhaps I should, but I cannot. If you want, I wear suppressant collar, so we talk and you know I not run."</p><p>"Okay." Logan nodded, keeping his claws extended. He looked around, catching sight of Illyana. "Illy, go grab a suppressant collar from Hank, wouldya?"</p><p>The girl disappeared, and reappeared a moment later. She fastened it around Azazel's throat at Logan's instruction, then left to do her share of the cooking. Logan stared coldly at Azazel, who was shifting uncomfortably.</p><p>"You got a minute bub, then I decide if you live."</p><p>"Thank you." Azazel swallowed. "You know I was swapped, given from Shaw in exchange for Lehnsherr boy. I left behind my friend. My confidante, my lover. He was... hurt. And I arranged with Shaw that I could see him. Just reports. Never anything harmful. Back for Stryker, it was just exchange of information. Tell Shaw what Stryker did. No harm. And then you took over, and it... it carried on. I did not want to betray you, but simply saying what you show - Shaw could have spy in the audience. I tell nothing that wasn't already knowledge. And in return, he let me see Janos. Let me tell he was unharmed. Only... it did not last. Stryker was angry. And I say I work for Shaw, not for him. But then he get... medicine. Drug. He put it on my neck and everything... the world not make any sense, and he control me. And after few days, it began to wear off. But he tell me if I not come back, Janos suffer."</p><p>Azazel shook his head. "I could not do it. I come back to him, with information, let him do drug. It was not... he not ask for more than Shaw did, not at first. Not until... not until then, when he tell me what to do, to transport Creed to the circus, and I try... I try to argue. They say they would kill Janos. And the drug... it was impossible to say no. So I say yes. And then, first chance I can, I run. I go for Janos. He was always chained, always, so I could not grab him. But this time... this time he was free. I brought him here, because this place... this place is safe. And even if I do not deserve to be safe, Janos does."</p><p>Azazel fell silent, his tail twisting behind him, as Logan watched coldly. He knew it could all be a lie.</p><p>It didn't smell like a lie, but then Logan wasn't sure how far he could trust Azazel after the man's previous betrayal. Still, the man in his arms looked in need of medical attention, and a good meal. "Come with me." He walked to his caravan, knocking on the door. "Hank, we need you."</p><p>Hank bustled out, frowning when he saw Janos. He didn't comment on Azazel's return, his attention focused on the young man in Azazel's arms, making sure that he was comfortable and sending Laura to fetch some stew for him. </p><p>Azazel stood nearby once Janos had been taken from him, a look of concern on his face. That, at least, appeared genuine.</p><p>"Why did you come back here?"</p><p>"I needed know Janos was safe. After everything that happen - I knew wherever I go I be met with disgust. But here, at least I would have earned. It wouldn't be because of how I look, but because I did… what I did and it... it wasn't what I wanted, but..." He sighed softly, and shook his head. "I had to keep him safe. It all I've wanted."</p><p>"You betrayed us all for a pretty face," Logan pointed out coldly, and Azazel shrugged a little.</p><p>"I betray you for my lover, yes. You wouldn't understand. We all owe Hank great deal and he is good friend but his appearance is... monstrous. Like mine. You can't know what it is to see man like that, man who looks like saints themselves, and who smile just for you. To know that after years of being called devil, there is man who is good, kind, beautiful, who looks at you and sees not monster but man. If you did, you would understand." He shook his head, and Logan frowned, not wanting to concede it.</p><p>"You think I should forgive you, bub?"</p><p>"No." Azazel shrugged. "I hurt you. Hurt all of you. It only luck that you survived. But know I did not want to hurt you. I perform well, and I care. And now Janos is safe - no one has any power over me. I give you the most precious thing I have, and ask you are gentle with him, but I not... I not cause problem for you. I not argue, or do anything wrong. I not want Creed to kill all of you, and I am glad he did not..." Azazel sighed softly, shaking his head. "I did what I did for Janos. And if it came down, I would do again. But I am sorry you were hurt."</p><p>Logan frowned, his claws flexing. If he'd been his brother he would have torn Azazel apart in answer for his crimes. But he wasn't Creed. He knew now that Azazel had lied, and if he'd been honest they might have been able to work together. But it was too late now for that kind of repair. Azazel smelt truthful. "You have one last chance. If you cause any pain to any of us again, if you ever disappear off without permission... I will kill you."</p><p>"And Janos?"</p><p>"He can recover here, and we'll talk to him. Is he human?"</p><p>"Gifted," Azazel answered with a shrug. "He controls the wind." </p><p>Logan snorted but nodded, going to see how Hank was getting on with his patient. There was no point worrying more about Azazel. He hadn't removed the suppressant collar, and Azazel hadn't asked him to. In his mind, it wasn't going to be forever, just until he was sure that the man wasn't about to betray them.</p><p>"He's fine," Hank said softly when Logan approached. "Nothing you need to worry about, just undernourished and injured. He'll recover."</p><p>Logan nodded, striding off again, wanting to move. Azazel's return wasn't entirely welcome, and yet he couldn't abandon him. He had always said his goal was to provide a sanctuary for mutants in need, and it felt like Azazel needed help more than most. </p><p>Part of his anger was directed inwards. For years, he had been unaware of Azazel's concerns, his suffering. If he had known, he might have been able to do something for him, but without that knowledge he couldn't help.</p><p>He glanced at the circus, telling himself they'd be alright without him, at least for a short while. He didn't need to go for long, just long enough he could clear his head, a couple of hours at most. He was afraid that otherwise he might lash out - at his friends, or worse at Hank, Laura or Jace. He turned his back and walked away, telling himself he was just going to go on a brief perimeter of the camp.</p><p>He had gone no more than fifty paces in the woodland when he saw a woman leaning against a tree. She had brown hair, and her eyes were grey and sightless, using a cane in one hand and the other resting on the trunk of the tree she was beside.</p><p>"Hey there," he called out, and she lifted her head, smiling up at him. </p><p>"Logan?"</p><p>"You know my name?"</p><p>"I know a lot about you, Logan. Don't worry, this isn't a trap."</p><p>Logan stared at her. "I'm fairly sure I can defend myself against a blind woman, but thank you for the reassurance."</p><p>"Perhaps," she laughed. "But no, I am not here to hurt you." She reached out with the hand not holding her cane. "I have a letter for you to give to Charles. And I believe that you have space in your little group for a fortune teller."</p><p>"A fortune-"</p><p>"I see the future. Not always, and not clearly, but it serves me well enough to get through life. Gifted, they call me, although at times it has been far from a gift..." She shook her head. "And you want to ask about your future. Everyone always does. But I  can't tell you too much or it might alter your path."</p><p>"A fortune teller who won't tell fortunes," Logan muttered under his breath, and was met by the woman's smile.</p><p>"Suffice it to say that when the time comes, you will realise what the animal inside of you really is, and what it needs. And you will be able to use that knowledge to do more than you believe." She smiled to herself. "I know you have quite a busy circus right now, but I know there are a couple of free caravans. I would like one of those if that strikes you as acceptable. I do not believe I will be alone for long."</p><p>Logan stared at her, then nodded, offering her his arm. "Do you have a name?"</p><p>"Irene. But my stage name is Destiny." She reached for him, tucking against his side and feeling her way with her cane. "I've been looking for you for a while, Logan. I believe you will be of more help than you know."</p><p>Logan bit back any rude comments, accompanying her back to the circus.</p><p>***</p><p>Kurt was rehearsing with Angel again. It was good, to move freely after so much pain, and he was enjoying the chance to show off his abilities, flipping through the air in the big top. Mister Charles had been very polite to let them stay, and he was glad that Mortimer was happy there, but he knew he would never have wanted to stay longer term, not once he'd performed and now realised what he was capable of. He completed another flip, then jumped down to the ground, bowing low. His mind was full of imaginary applause, and he grinned broadly.</p><p>Angel laughed, fluttering down beside him and embracing him. "You're doing well. Go and play, you deserve it."</p><p>Kurt did as he was bid, walking across the campsite to where the children had gathered. Hank was sitting with a man he didn't recognise, but nearby were Laura and Jace. He waved a greeting, teleporting the final distance. Jace reached up to embrace him, and he ran his hand through her short hair, feeling the scars that lingered. "Hallo girls, do you vant to help me practice a routine?"</p><p>Laura nodded quickly, reaching for Jace's hand. Jace looked a little more hesitant, but also nodded in agreement, allowing her sister to pull her along. Kurt smiled, glad to see that the two girls were having fun together. He grinned. "I need you to tell me if it looks good, yes? You sit up in the stalls, and if I am good you can clap?"</p><p>The girls scurried up eagerly, and Kurt felt himself relax. After everything that had happened, it was good to see the kids having some fun, and he made them laugh, bowing and teleporting with even more enthusiasm than normal. </p><p>Kurt hadn't thought he'd know what it was to belong somewhere, to have a family. But now he did. He felt that he had a sense of home now. This was where he should be, and he was glad for it.</p><p>***</p><p>Charles couldn't stop thinking about Erik, aware he had abandoned the other man. He hadn't wanted to, hadn't intended to. His dream was that the two of them could remain together. But Erik had been driven away to hunt down an enemy, and that had left him alone.</p><p>His friendship meant less to Erik than revenge, and as days passed, Charles oscillated between feeling guilt for failing Erik, and anger at the idea that he mattered less than achieving some kind of retribution. He understood Erik was angry, but he didn't see how that had to lead to abandoning all they were creating together. All they could create together were Erik to return.</p><p>Charles tried not to linger on those thoughts. Erik was a grown man, capable of making his own decisions, just as Logan was. But Logan's abscence didn't cut so deeply - his feelings towards the other man were only friendship, and he knew that Logan was working on something that would be good for him, not simply surrendering to anger and pain the way that Erik was. He didn't mean to judge, but he couldn't help thinking that it would all have been better if Erik had chosen to remain. </p><p>The arrival of Kitty and Anne-Marie at least provided a thankful break from being lost in his memories, enabling him to focus on looking after young members of the gifted who were yet to fully understand themselves. </p><p>Charles missed his younger sister, and seeing the two young ladies slowly learning not to fear their gifts gave him a sense of hope. The two of them were dropped off by Moira, the girls in a clear state of distress, Kitty's face burrowed against Anne-Marie's arm as they climbed out from the carriage. Charles wheeled over to greet them, extending a hand of friendship and welcoming them into his house, asking Darwin to prepare some tea for them. "Moira, thank you for coming."</p><p>"Thank you for helping us."</p><p>Anne-Marie looked up at him shyly. "You really think you can help us? Miss MacTaggart said you could, that you knew how to help those with gifts, but... is that true?"</p><p>"It's true," Charles promised them. "You're both welcome to stay here, for as long as you like." <i>I am gifted as well, and I want to help you both feel comfortable with your abilities.</i></p><p>Kitty looked up at surprise in the voice in her head, but she nodded. "Thank you."</p><p>"I'll have Alex show the two of you around. The main purpose of your stay is just so that you can practice your powers in a non-harmful way, and learn the extent of your gift. I can therefore tutor the two of you, something I have also been doing for my gifted daughter and her mutant friends," Charles explained, mentally summoning Alex. </p><p>Helping young gifted individuals learn the extent of their powers was something he was interested in - that was why he had continued to pursue science, why he had taken in Jean. He believed that being gifted was a remarkable opportunity, but he was aware it brought pain to many, and he wanted to help. </p><p>"Miss Kitty, can you demonstrate your ability?"</p><p>The girl nodded, turning and walking through a wall and then returning, a nervous smile on her face. "You aren't angry?"</p><p>"I think you have a marvellous gift. You too, Anne-Marie, even if you can't see the purpose yet. The time will come when your gift will serve you well."</p><p>"Thank you..." Anne-Marie answered, disbelief plain on her face.</p><p>"I've excused these two from school for a week, saying we were partaking in an educational visit. Do you think that will be long enough-?"</p><p>"I hope it will be a start," Charles answered. He wanted to teach the two of them not to fear what they were, to provide at least a little hope. He nodded a greeting to Alex when he arrived. "Can you give these three ladies the tour? And then Darwin has some tea ready for them."</p><p>Alex nodded, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly.</p><p>"What's wrong?" Charles asked him gently.</p><p>"Uh, Logan's here, and he wasn't happy that I said he had to wait."</p><p>"Thank you for standing up to him," Charles answered. "But I suppose I best uncover what the problem is. Show him in, and then, if you can, show the ladies around?"</p><p>Alex left with a slight bow, gesturing for the ladies to follow, and a moment later Logan walked in. He did not look overly impressed, a dark shadow across his face.</p><p>"Logan?"</p><p>"A fortune teller sent me," Logan answered, holding out a letter. "She said you'd want to read this."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please do comment if you're enjoying! it means a lot to me!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charles stared up at Logan, trying to convey with his expression exactly how unhappy he was with Logan bothering him. But after a moment he paused, realising that Logan was speaking the truth, at least as far as he understood it - Logan wasn't the kind to joke about fortune tellers. That wasn't to say that Logan was easily taken in by charlatans - more that the other man had lived for long enough to recognise when something was true, even if it seemed foolish.</p><p>Logan held out the letter. "Chuck, read it."</p><p>He snorted slightly, but took the letter. "And since when have you been an errand boy for passing fortune tellers?"</p><p>"Since Azazel returned and meant I could travel," Logan answered, shrugging his shoulders a little. "I know it sounds strange. But she came up to me, and I believe her."</p><p>Charles shrugged, turning the letter over in his hands. </p><p>"What if it's from your sweetheart?" </p><p>"I don't have a sweetheart," Charles protested, his mind full of thoughts of Erik as he opened the letter.</p><p>He recognised the writing on the page - but it wasn't Erik. It was someone else, someone dearer even than the man he was infatuated with.</p><p>Raven. After years apart, after he had driven her from him by trying to protect her, she was writing to him. Given the nature of her gift, there was no surprise that she had been able to hand Logan the letter - assuming that the man he was facing was Logan, and not his sister in disguise. He pushed that thought away - this felt like Logan, and watching every passerby closely, wondering if his sister was there, would only lead to further pain. He'd learned that one the hard way.</p><p>After she had first left - after he had first driven her away - he had watched every man, woman and child that passed, wondering if one of them was his sister. He'd spent hours daydreaming, and never come any closer to finding her. She could disappear if she wanted to, and be unfindable.</p><p>His hands trembled a little as he smoothed the paper out.</p><p>
  <i>Charles, I hope that this letter finds you well, and that it finds you at all - if it does, that means my dearest Irene is safe, and that everything is falling into place as she foretold. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I know that I haven't written to you for a long time, and that knowing your nature as I do, you have probably worried for me, and so now I wish to reassure you - I am well. There have been times when I have not been, but I am now safe. I am no longer the headstrong youth that rushed away from you, and whilst I do not agree with you any more than I did before, I now understand a little of why you made the choices that you did. The truth is, somehow everything became a struggle. Though I am now still hopeful as well, I know you understand.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I have become involved in our cause more directly, seeking to handle those who see us as less. I know you won't approve of the violence, but trust me when I say that we all sleep safer with some monsters gone from the world. <br/>Your loving sister, always,<br/>Raven. </i>
</p><p>He stared at the letter in silence for a couple of moments. This was the forgiveness he had longed for. And yet he knew that his sister was headed down a dangerous path, one that he could not hope to follow.</p><p>He paused, a phrase catching his eye. 'The truth is'. As children, the two of them had played games with missing letters and code phrases. He scanned down the letter, until he found the second half of the phrase, then examined the words between in more detail. She had told him who she was going after. Sebastian Shaw, spelt out in the words she had written to him. A warning.</p><p>He thought of Erik, of the fear the other man had even now about that nightmare. Erik was going to be dangerous, frightened, and Raven blundering in with her own goals would likely make things worse. </p><p>Even more concerningly, Raven could be caught by Erik. He didn't want to consider what would come next. One thing though was extremely obvious to him - he was going to have to find a way to contact one or both of them before they ran into each other.</p><p>"It important, Chuck?" Logan asked, and Charles nodded slowly. </p><p>"Yes." In that letter was information that could change the fates of those he loved most. He couldn't imagine anything more important, more vital, than that.</p><p>Logan looked at him and shook his head. "If you want my help you need to tell me what's going on." </p><p>"Erik is trying to hunt down the man that hurt him when he was younger. But I've found out that someone else is after the same man - and it could get unpleasant if they meet without realising they are on the same side.”</p><p>"Unpleasant as in...fatal?"</p><p>"Probably," Charles admitted. "The woman I know is wonderful, but has a tendency to blunder forwards in her ideas, and Erik will be panicking. I have to warn him."</p><p>"Do you know where he is?"</p><p>"No, but Emma does. I can write to her, get her to tell me-" Charles frowned. He hated this, hated delaying for a second longer than was necessary, but at the same time he realised that it was needed - he could hardly just appear there instantly.</p><p>"If it's life and death, I'm sure she'll understand," Logan muttered, and Charles looked at him in confusion. </p><p>"Understand what?"</p><p>"Understand you teleporting in. Azazel owes me a great debt for what he has done. But I can recognise the potential usefulness of his powers, even if I'm not certain at the moment that I can trust him. We use him, and we can get the help we need." Logan's eyes lit up with certainty, and Charles felt a sudden surge of gratitude towards his friend - at a time when it would have been easy to refuse to help, to abandon Charles to his fate, he was working out what they could do. He was on Charles's side, and that was a comfort he sorely needed.</p><p>"Thank you, my friend."</p><p>"Thank me once you have got that young man of yours to safety and resolved whatever is going on with your other friend," Logan said with a shrug, but Charles continued to smile at him. He could tell that Logan wanted to protest, but he was clearly not in the mood for an argument.</p><p>"I will call Azazel," Charles informed him, closing his eyes and concentrating, reaching out for the strangely wispy nature of the teleporter's thoughts. <i>Can you come here?</i> </p><p>It only took a moment for the man to obey, standing before them with his head bowed. He nodded at them both, then stood up smarter. "What need me for?"</p><p>"We need you to help us," Charles began. "I want you to take us to the Frost estate, and then to wherever Shaw is..." He paused. "Unless you already know the man's location?"</p><p>Azazel shook his head. "I'm sorry. He not trust me with that information. We always met in public space."</p><p>"Then Frost's place first of all, and after that we will see what our next steps will be."</p><p>"Both of you?"</p><p>"I don't want to be stuck here," Logan answered. "Erik always drags me into his mess. I see no reason why that should change now."</p><p>"You shouldn't have shown the boy kindness if you did not want to remain entangled in his life."</p><p>"Easy for you to say." Logan snorted. "As though you don't surround yourself with gifted strays just the same."</p><p>Charles shrugged his shoulders, able to recognise when he had been outwitted. "Still, Azazel, if you would be so kind as to take us to the Lady Frost's estate?"</p><p>Azazel reached out, and the world dissolved into smoke, before solidifying into the familiar shape of Frost's manor. Legally, the Lady Frost should not have been permitted inheritance, but with no acknowledged surviving male heirs she had managed to claim control. The fact that anyone who challenged her seemed to forget the purpose of their visit was merely a minor factor in her success, but perhaps not one to overlook.</p><p>As they approached the front gate, making their way up the gravelled gate, the Lady Frost strode out to greet them. "You bring the riff-raff, Charles. But I can feel your worry. Is it that young man of yours?"</p><p>"He isn't my young man."</p><p>"Is it Erik though? I can look into your mind if you'd rather, but I like the idea of hearing you be the one to say it."</p><p>"Yes." Charles sighed. "It is Erik. I'm worried about him."</p><p>"That's probably safest, he is rather inclined to overdramatic actions..." Emma answered, then turned a little more serious as she saw the expression on Charles's face. "What's he done?"</p><p>"You know he went to hunt down Shaw. But I found out that Raven is also pursuing him. I am worried they might come into conflict-"</p><p>"You're worried he'll kill her."</p><p>"That's the worst case scenario. But not... not impossible. That's why I'm asking you for your help."</p><p>"I can tell you where Shaw is staying," Emma offered. "You go to him, you protect him, and you bring him home."</p><p>Part of Charles wanted to argue, to claim that Erik wasn't his concern, that he didn't need to chase after the man in a half-hearted attempt to keep him safe. However the rest of him knew the truth - if Erik needed him, he would do what he could to be there for him.</p><p>He could feel Emma's mind brush his own. Whatever she found satisfied her, because a moment later she was pushing forwards the information he needed. "I'll tell your transport as well. Once this is resolved, I expect a dinner invitation."</p><p>"You'll get one," Charles promised as Azazel's eyes flickered a little. Then the red man nodded, and reached out towards him. "Ready?"</p><p>"Ready."</p><p>***</p><p>Erik knew that Shaw was aware of his presence. There was no way that the older man could have missed the fact that his prisoner had escaped after being freed from metal handcuffs, and Shaw had always delighted in telling Erik how exquisitely unique his skill was. It was Shaw who had discovered that several of Erik's ancestors had been metalworkers of one kind or another, and he had spent a long time hypothesising over whether their work lingered in his blood, or if they had been predisposed to the same gift he shared. </p><p>Shaw had mentioned the possibility of seeing if the gift was passed down the line, but that had luckily never gone further than simple consideration.</p><p>So days passed. Erik watched from the shadows, waiting for Shaw to acknowledge him, for Shaw to do something. He knew that Shaw realised he was there, and that knowledge terrified him. And Shaw in turn knew that Erik realised that. </p><p>Erik remembered watching Shaw prepare rats for vivisection, the way he seemed to relish pinning them, seeing their struggles as they realised they were trapped, that their fate was inevitable but not wanting to give in. It felt like that was what Shaw was doing to him, watching as he dangled on a string.</p><p>Shaw gave no sign of knowing about Erik's presence. He went about his day, much the same routine as before, and if he was upset at Erik stealing his experiment, he gave no outward hint of his displeasure.</p><p>And yet Erik felt like he was trapped. Every day that passed without the inevitable confrontation felt like more of a trap - Shaw recording his flaws so that when the time came he could make Erik account for them. Erik couldn't sleep - every time he closed his eyes, he expected to open them to find Shaw stepping forth from the shadows, a wide smile on his face.</p><p>He shuddered, trying to push those thoughts aside. He would be of no use to anyone if he panicked, and yet such panic felt like second nature. He found himself without rest, gazing out at the window at the street below, tracking every one of Shaw's movements. Shaw had a handful of servants, a few visitors, and no one gave Erik's hideaway a glance. And yet Erik's mind screamed that all of them were watching him, knowing his weaknesses, preparing to attack.</p><p>More than once he thought of writing to Charles and asking him for forgiveness. He didn't expect Charles to come to his aid - Charles had been quite clear on that matter, but he didn't want to die with Charles still blaming him for their disagreement. </p><p>He didn't write. He didn't want to worry Charles, or risk exposing Charles to Shaw's wrath.</p><p>He lay in bed, and watched the shadows move, until he reached the point where he couldn't take it any longer, when he felt overwhelmed by everything that was happening and needed to act. Needed to do something.</p><p>He thought of sneaking through the servant's entrance, trying to creep up on the monster, but he knew it wouldn't work. Shaw would find him out. Shaw would always find him out. Better to face him head on. </p><p>He was careful in his preparations. Made sure he left behind nothing that could link him to Charles or Logan, wore new clothing in case there was someone who could track by scent. He packed up his bags and paid for the room, leaving them hidden nearby. He'd either retrieve them or he wouldn't, but he didn't want his possessions to get the landlord in trouble.</p><p>He squared his shoulders and made his way across the street to Shaw's apartment. He took slow deep breaths as he approached the main door, before he raised his hand and began to knock. The sound felt unnaturally loud to his ears, and he was sure that it was echoing.</p><p>He found himself hoping that Shaw was out, even though his observations proved the man wasn't. The door opened, and he expected to be faced with some smarmy servant. Instead, Shaw himself stood there, gesturing for Erik to enter. </p><p>"Do come in, my dear boy. I have been waiting for you." </p><p>Feeling almost dumbstruck, Erik made his way into the property, his heart racing in his chest as he fought for breath. Shaw hadn't looked surprised. He stood a little straighter, like a boxer getting ready for a fight. Shaw looked at him and smiled.</p><p>"Oh, my dear boy, it is so good to have you home."</p><p>A wave of dizziness swept through Erik, but he reminded himself that he was an adult now, that he had freed many mutants from their tormentors, and now he was doing it for himself. He held his head high. "This was never my home."</p><p>Shaw chuckled to himself, shaking his head with a fond smile, the way a parent might to a misbehaving child. He didn't look like a man who felt threatened, one who should fear for his life. He looked like he was in control, the way he always had been.</p><p>Erik's hand ached, but he tried to ignore that, making himself focus. He'd come here with a purpose. He'd planned to kill his tormentor. He could do that.</p><p>He reached out for the metal in the room, unravelling the elaborate metalwork of the lamp holders, pulling nails from the furniture, arming himself with metal that twisted through the air around him. It felt like a shield. He was armed, he wasn't helpless, didn't need to be afraid. He stepped forwards, taking his metal alongside him, ready to fight.</p><p>He had killed countless times since leaving Shaw behind. And he was always quick - no matter what the monster had done, there was no point in drawing out their death. The sooner the world was free of them, the better for everyone.</p><p>He focused on the metal, sending shards of it forwards, intending to impale Shaw - yet they clattered off of him as though they were simply leaves caught in a gust of wind. That didn't make sense - he was armed, he was fighting, and he sent forwards another wave.</p><p>He could see now how the metal made contact, then fell away, all the fire with which he had thrown it dissipating the second it hit Shaw's skin. He had known Shaw was gifted, seen the sheer strength that he wielded - the power with which he had managed to drive a spike into the back of Erik's hand. Now the man was advancing, and he was smiling.</p><p>"Oh my dear boy, I really do enjoy our fights. They're always so energising. Now, my turn." He reached out, wrapping one hand around Erik's wrist and squeezing, and Erik screamed in pain, collapsing to the floor, his hand still caught in the monster's grasp. He tried to pull himself free but he had no luck, unable to escape Shaw's grip.</p><p>He realised this was the end. He wasn't going to win. He wasn't going to be able to fight. He struggled against him, sending more metal cascading closer to him.</p><p>The pain fell away abruptly, and he felt Charles's presence in his mind. <i>Erik?</i></p><p><i>I'm here. You need to go, Charles, he's too strong, he'll kill you.</i> Erik was willing to accept his own fate, ready to die if it would hold Shaw back. But he wasn't willing to lose Charles. </p><p><i>He's killing you...</i> The grip at his wrist loosened, and Shaw took a step back, staring forwards with a blank gaze. <i>Quickly, Erik. I can't hold him for long.</i></p><p>Almost like an automaton in need of winding, Shaw's face slowly creased into a frown, and he began to take a juddering step forwards. He was speeding up before Erik's eyes, his strength pulling away from Charles's power, his gaze locking on Erik.</p><p>Erik knew his wrist was broken. But he couldn't waste a moment - he focused, sending forwards his power, trying to strike the other man, to bring him down. Energy swirled around him, metal flying through the air. </p><p>The first cut opened up on Shaw's forehead, and he closed his eyes, concentrating. He couldn't let the man survive. The metal moved faster and faster, until he heard a thud.</p><p>He opened his eyes to see Shaw lying on the floor, blood pooling out around him. Shaw was still. He could feel the man's heart had stopped beating. </p><p>Shaw was gone.</p><p>The monster was gone.</p><p>Erik fell to the ground, shaking, as the room swam around him.</p><p>Behind him, a door opened.</p><p>***</p><p>Charles nodded his thanks to Azazel as they arrived outside the address that Emma had given him. The other man stepped back into the shadows, afraid his appearance would draw attention.</p><p>Normally, Charles would have offered to shield the other man using his gift, but his priority was searching for the minds of Erik and Raven. He couldn't find his sister's thoughts anywhere, but Erik's panic was a beacon to him. </p><p>He felt a sudden spike of pain, screaming out in agony, and Logan was at his side in an instant.</p><p>"What do you need me to do?" Logan asked, one strong hand resting on Charles's shoulder.</p><p>"Keep everyone away from me," Charles answered, concentrating, reaching for Erik's mind. The agony was almost blinding, so he quieted it, sparing Erik that pain. <i>Erik?</i></p><p>Erik's mind welcomed his own, full of relief and hope and fear. <i>I'm here. You need to go, Charles, he's too strong, he'll kill you.</i> There was so much protection shining in that statement, so much desire to help - but it on its own wouldn't be enough. Erik wasn't expecting to win this battle. He just wanted Charles to be safe. But Charles couldn't leave him.</p><p><i>He's killing you...</i> Charles protested, reaching out for Shaw's mind instead, gripping him with all he could, telling him to be still. There was an unnatural strength in the man's thoughts, but Charles forced him to release Erik's wrist, moving him away. But the man's mind was still struggling, freeing itself from his grip. <i>Quickly, Erik. I can't hold him for long.</i></p><p>He couldn't keep his concentration on Erik any more. All of his mind had to be on fighting the nightmare that had held Erik prisoner for too long. It wasn't working. He could feel the man strengthening, pushing him away, but he had to hold onto him. He knew Erik was doing something, but he couldn't focus on it, not until the thoughts that were fighting him fell away, and he could breathe.</p><p>He opened his eyes, shaking with exertion, and brought his hand up to his face, finding that his nose was bleeding. Logan was watching over him, a pained snarl on his face, and Charles felt shattered, too exhausted to move. His head ached. "Logan?" he whispered, his voice trembling. "Can you get me inside?"</p><p>The door swung open at Logan's claws, and Charles went to push himself forwards, before he shook his head. He didn't have the strength. "Logan..."</p><p>Logan reached out and pushed him forwards, heading towards the fragile shape of Erik's mind.</p><p>Erik was on the floor, sobbing, as Logan pushed open the door.</p><p>Charles longed to sweep Erik up in his arms, but he was simply too exhausted, his body overwhelmed by the exertion of fighting Shaw's mind. "Logan, can you get me to him?" he asked, his voice a little unsteady. Logan wheeled him closer, steadying the chair while Charles manoeuvred himself down onto the ground, so that he could pull Erik close.</p><p>Erik looked on the verge of mania, trembling helplessly. Charles shushed him, stroking his hair and trying to soothe him, even though his own arms shook. What mattered was that Erik was safe now. They had survived the nightmare, and he was going to prove to Erik that they had won.</p><p>Erik leaned into him, the way a flower sought the sunlight, and Charles pushed aside any inappropriate thoughts. Erik was beautiful, but for now he required comfort, not flirtation, and Charles was determined to restrain himself. He rocked Erik against his chest, gazing at his injured arm.</p><p>Logan sniffed the air, claws sliding out. "There's other people here."</p><p>"The servants," Charles agreed. He had sensed other minds, before he had located Erik's. Since then, he had been focused on Erik, and now his mind was too sore to try and read another's mind. What mattered was Erik. Everyone else could wait.</p><p>Logan tilted his head, frowning. "Someone's coming."</p><p>"Don't attack first," Charles managed to instruct, despite the blinding headache. "We've invaded their space, we don't want to give them a reason to fight. The goal is to end this peacefully."</p><p>Logan snorted, and Charles could hear footsteps. He concentrated what little ability he could reach on Erik, ready to calm him if he panicked at whoever arrived. Already some of the pieces of metal on the floor were starting to move. Charles kept up a constant litany of soothing words, in an attempt to achieve something, his focus on Erik.</p><p>"Huh," Logan muttered, and that made his own gaze snap up. </p><p>The woman in front of him was wearing the outfit of a footman, but he barely noticed that. His attention was drawn to his sister's blue skin - the skin he had forbidden her from wearing - and her strange yellow eyes. She gazed at the corpse on the floor, then looked at him.</p><p>The recognition passed between them, unspoken but solid, neither quite knowing what to do next. In the end, it was Raven who broke the silence, looking down at him with quiet scorn.</p><p>"What happened to us keeping apart, Charles?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! :) Things are pretty tricky right now, but the amazing comments I am getting always make me smile, thank you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Huge thanks to my brilliant beta, and everyone who has been supportive as I write this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charles felt almost dizzy. His head still ached from the effort of holding Shaw, struggling to breathe and fighting to hold onto his mental walls so that he didn't injure anyone around him. Erik was in his arms, trembling, clearly overwhelmed now that the nightmare was finished, now that Shaw was gone.</p><p>Logan growled faintly, and Charles's attention shifted to the only other living person in the room. His sister. She was staring down at him with barely concealed disdain, and he was aching too much to argue.</p><p>"Hello, Raven."</p><p>"Hello, Charles." She sneered slightly, walking over to Shaw's corpse and kicking it with her foot, making Erik wince in his arms. "I heard you'd withdrawn from society. And you always told me not to get involved in the affairs of other mutants. You can imagine my surprise to learn that you were here, involved in something rather than just... well." She shook her head. "Irene told me I needed to inform you of the truth, of what I was investigating. I had been tracking Shaw for weeks, and I was certain he was the worst kind of man, experimenting on his own kind, torturing them... it was easy to get a job as a servant, and I was learning what I could before I acted - apparently you decided to snatch that chance from me."</p><p>Anger bubbled in Charles's chest, through the pain, and he breathed slowly to try and stay calm. He was near Raven for the first time in so long, he couldn't lose her over a simple argument.</p><p>"I didn't. Erik ended him, after years of suffering."</p><p>"And you helped. You broadcast a headache to everyone in a mile's radius, brother." She spat the last word, and if not for Erik in his arms Charles would have backed away, overwhelmed by the intensity of her anger. </p><p>"I didn't mean to harm anyone. I had to focus. I was helping. I needed to help."</p><p>"You finally took a stand." Raven shook her head, wandering around the room. "And call off your attack dog."</p><p>"Logan isn't mine," Charles answered. Normally, he would have telepathically told Logan to stand down, but his head just hurt too much at that moment. Thankfully, Logan sheathed his claws, and silence fell for a moment.</p><p>Charles knew he should say something. After years, here was his sister, and he had missed her more than life itself. And yet, he couldn't find the words for what he wished to say, couldn't work out how to express it. She was here, and yet all the words that he had longed to say turned to ash in his mouth, and he found himself in silence.</p><p>Erik was still shaking. He needed to move him from the corpse, get his things, get him home. Erik needed warm food and a steadying presence. He needed his arm seen to. Charles had seen people overwhelmed before, and it was clear that Erik was utterly flooded with sensation and thought and emotion.</p><p>If Charles's mind had lacked the bruises, he would have been able to throw up temporary shielding. Deprived of that, however, his best possibility was simply to keep Erik calm and get him to somewhere safe.</p><p>He brushed his fingers through Erik's hair, seeking to soothe him, to show him that all was right. </p><p>Raven snorted. "I suppose you always did prefer the gifted, Charles. Always wanted to protect the pretty ones."</p><p>Charles shot her a glare, and she shrugged. "You think I don't know that you fund freak shows? That you associate with those who would gladly see me vivisected for their edification? I kept up with you, Charles. I even knew you were looking for me. At least for a little while, until something better came along. And I suppose this is it. A pretty man who is in some kind of state... did you break his mind, Charles, the way you talked about doing to Cain?"</p><p>"No!" Charles yelped, making Erik cringe a little, desperately hoping that wasn't true, that he hadn't somehow hurt Erik. As though feeling his fear, Erik reached out and squeezed his hand with surprising firmness. He took a steadying breath, and looked up at her. "I've helped gifted, and mutants."</p><p>"You didn't want to help me. I could be anyone, do anything, and you wanted me to restrict myself to one pretty little shape that would let me pass in polite society. You expected me to exhaust myself, day after day, wearing the same false face so that you didn’t have to try and excuse my appearance. So that your reputation wasn't dented. So that you could still... so that you could live the life you wanted to live."</p><p>If it wasn't for Erik, Charles would have shouted. He knew the truth to her words, and how she had misunderstood them - yes, he had forced her to hide, but his concern had never been for his own safety. He had always feared her getting hurt, and thought that looking human was her best chance at safety. He tried to construct an answer that she would actually listen to.</p><p>Logan snorted, interrupting. "Look, Chuck's done more for mutants than most. You said he funds freak shows? He funds mine. We try and give help to mutants in need. I ain't saying he's perfect. Not by... not by a long way. But you don't get to waltz in here and yell at him when you've not been around."</p><p>"That wasn't by my choice," Raven snapped. "He made it clear I repulsed him."</p><p>"Raven, please..." Charles muttered. "Come on, let's... either get out or at least go to another room... could someone fetch Erik some water, and if there are any blankets, he's shivering..."</p><p>Raven stared at him, but walked off, and he could tell by the shape of her thoughts that she was fetching water. Logan lifted Erik as easily as if he were Laura, carrying him through to another room so at least the corpse was no longer there. Raven returned with a glass of water, and Charles tried to smile at her.</p><p>"I never wanted to chase you away, Raven. Everything I did, I did because I wanted to keep you safe."</p><p>"You failed," Raven told him, and Charles felt his heart twist. Because all he had wanted was to keep her safe. Even when she had hated him for hiding her, he had told himself it was worth it, because it had kept her safe from the harm of the world. But now, she was saying it was for nothing.</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"You made it quite clear you didn't care what happened to mutants, only to gifted. So I had to make my own choices." She handed him the water, and he held it to Erik's lips.</p><p>***</p><p>Raven could feel her brother's eyes on her, judging her, full of anger and pain. She didn't want to hurt him, didn't want to make him feel helpless. But she was hurting. She'd needed him, and he'd always treated her like some kind of pet, to be played with and befriended when it was convenient, and to hide away when it wasn't. </p><p>He'd made his choice. He'd been the man she had always needed him to be, but he hadn't done it for her. He'd done it for some pretty man that he was sweet on, and that hurt in a way. That she hadn't been enough for him, but this man was. </p><p>She took a slow breath. "I did what I thought was right. I helped my people, because it was clear you wouldn't."</p><p>Charles didn't meet her eyes. He was busy fussing over the man in his arms, brushing away the hair from his forehead, making soft shushing noises as one would for a wounded animal. It was the kind of thing that would soothe someone who had been hurt.</p><p>The kind of thing she wished that someone had done to her when she had been suffering. But she'd been alone, because her own brother had driven her away. Because she had never been more than a pet to him. </p><p>She shuddered a little, and the man with the claws glanced at her, sniffing the air like a dog. "We'd best get moving, Charles. Trouble will come if we stay."</p><p>"Alright," her brother said softly. "Come on, Erik. Let's get you out of here. Raven, could you check to see if there's anyone nearby?" And just like that, he was back to giving her orders. Acting like she was still a child hiding in his shadow, and she felt angry at that. But she went to do it, because she wanted to get out of there.</p><p>She found herself wondering if Charles would even notice. If she walked off, and kept walking, and never once looked back, would he even realise she was gone? Or would it just be an annoyance that his order hadn't been followed? She blinked back her tears, walking out, shifting back into the form of a servant. She realised with a bitter glow of anger that she could call the household, uncover what Charles had done. But she wouldn't. She wouldn't hurt Charles, not even now. She missed him.</p><p>She checked the surrounding rooms, reassuring another servant that she could take the tea-tray upstairs. She returned with it, thinking of how she had planned to poison Shaw's tea, watching as her brother poured cups for the four of them. </p><p>"How have you been, Raven?" Charles asked carefully. "I missed you."</p><p>"Not well, Charles. Some of your scientist friends caught me." She shifted to her natural form, ignoring his flinch as she gestured to the marks on her arm. "They thought they would be able to make use of my mutation. I got rid of them, in the end, but it hurt. And whenever they'd leave me alone... whenever they went off, to somewhere else, I always wondered - were they busy eating dinner with you? Did you see their thoughts, did you know what was happening and did not care because you didn't know it was me? Or did you know... did you know and still not care..."</p><p>"Raven..." Charles looked up at her, anguished. "I cared. Please. I know you wish for me to avoid your thoughts, and I do, so I have no way to prove to you that I care. But I care. Raven, I looked for you. And if I had known... I would have moved heaven and earth to get you back."</p><p>It looked like he was close to tears, but she wasn't sure whether or not she could trust him, if it was the truth. But then he was reaching out to her, not shying away from her blue skin, and she went to him, curling her body up against his lap like she had when they were children, feeling the pain start to leave her as she wept. He kept running his hand up and down her back, doing what he could to reassure her, and it wasn't enough but he was there, and he was holding her, and he'd finally started making the right choices. It wasn't enough. It was so far from enough. But it was a start, and she clung to him so that she could hold onto something real. </p><p>The eyes of the man on the floor flickered open, gazing up at him, and he frowned.<br/>
"Mystique?"</p><p>"Erik?" Looking closer, she could see it now, see the familiarity of the man's face, the strength of his jaw. "That's... you two are working together?" She had known Erik. He'd helped free her from the scientists that had her prisoner. But he'd always seemed strong, independent. Far from this broken figure sobbing in her brother's arms.</p><p>***</p><p>"It's good to see you, Mystique," Erik muttered, because it was. His head ached, and he could feel the pocket watch that was still ticking away the seconds, near Shaw's corpse. The body was no longer pumping blood through the veins, but the hands kept moving, counting down seconds that no longer needed to be tracked.</p><p>Mystique smiled, her teeth brilliant against her dark blue skin, and he could see how much she had grown from the scared youth he had found once in a laboratory. "You killed your monster?"</p><p>"With Charles's help," Erik answered. It barely seemed real. Shaw was gone. Shaw was gone, and he would never again be able to hurt anyone. Shaw was dead. The nightmare was over. Those simple facts echoed around his mind, seemingly growing louder and louder as emotion swept through him. He'd freed so many mutants, taken them away from their tormentors, and now this time he was being freed. Shaw was gone. He didn't need to live in fear, not any more.</p><p>He was aware of Logan passing him some water, and he took a sip before he felt calm enough to speak. "Mystique, this is Logan. Logan, this is Mystique. Logan runs a circus, and I think you'd... I think you'd like it there, Mystique. You could wear your true form, and you wouldn't have to live in fear." He hadn't sent her there before because he hadn't been sure if she would want to, because she had been focused on revenge, and he had recognised a kindred spirit. But he hoped that maybe now, she would be able to help, or find a place. And Logan seemed open to other ideas now. Perhaps he and Mystique could work together, could save people. He wasn't sure if he would offend her, implying she would accept being contained, but he had to try.</p><p>Mystique's answer wasn't immediate, and he wondered if she was going to judge him, but instead she smiled a little. "I know. I don't know if it's where I'll stay, but I know it is there, and I sent... I sent someone dear to me ahead."</p><p>"She got there," Logan interrupted. "You did well for yourself. She told us to come here."</p><p>"She did," Charles agreed, and it was only as he said that that Erik realised what a shock it was that Charles had appeared right at the moment he had needed him. Previously, he hadn't questioned it - it was Charles. Of course he was going to be there when he was needed.</p><p>"That was lucky," he managed to murmur, thinking it through.</p><p>"Luck's got nothing to do with it.” Logan snorted. “Raven's ladyfriend has the ability to see the future."</p><p>"Oh." Erik nodded, allowing that to sink in. He had defeated Shaw, and now it felt like that had happened because it always would happen. Because it was fate. </p><p>"How did you find yourself a ladyfriend?" Charles interrupted. "Raven, you always said that society ladies were far too stiff and boring for you."</p><p>"They are. No, I found her in the laboratory. You met her, Erik." </p><p>He remembered. The day he had rescued Mystique, he had found another woman there, blind. She had smiled at him and thanked him by name, and walked out holding onto Mystique's elbow. He had assumed she was some kind of telepath. But now it felt like everything was slotting into place.</p><p>Shaw was gone. Every few moments, he would remember that, and the cascade of emotions would begin anew. But he tried to focus on the positives at that moment. He was free. He was free, and the man that Shaw had held prisoner had escaped, and Charles had arrived. He kept thinking about that.</p><p>Charles's hand interlaced with his own uninjured one, and he breathed out slowly. He wasn't sure what he would do now. For so long, his only goal had been Shaw's death. And now that had happened. Shaw was gone, and he no longer had to fear him. But he had to work out what path his life could take now, where he went next, what he did when revenge was no longer his purpose.</p><p>He squeezed Charles's hand. He didn't agree with everything Charles had done. But he needed aid to make these decisions, and he could think of no one better to consider his future with than Charles. He took another careful sip of his drink, breathing slowly, and then stumbled to his feet. "What now?" he asked. The question hung in the air, waiting for an answer. He took a couple of slow breaths, before he looked to Charles. "What now?"</p><p>"We go home, for tonight," Charles answered. "And in the morning Logan can go back to his circus, Raven too if she wants... Equally, Raven, there is always space for you in our home if you want it."</p><p>"There are too many bad memories," she answered, and Charles did a marvellous job of hiding the pain those words caused. Even watching closely, Erik could only just pick out his wince. But he smiled.</p><p>"Then we'll make some good ones." He knew what it was like to have bad memories. And it was clear that there was a lot of bad blood between Charles and Raven. But he had come to realise he cared for Charles, missed him when they were apart. He had to believe that in the end, it was all going to work out. That together, they could solve the problems, and they could make everything better. He had to believe that.</p><p>Shaw was dead, and the hollow of his death left opportunity, left hope. If Erik could survive the death of that monster, there had to be hope.</p><p>"Mortimer missed you," Charles told him softly. <i>But he never gave up on the idea that you'd be back soon. He didn't waver, not once.</i></p><p>Erik didn't know what to make of such conviction. He didn't feel he deserved it. But he'd been given it. He nodded, slowly, and leaned against Charles. "I guess... I guess it's time to go home then."</p><p>Shaw had taken him from what little he thought of as a home, many years ago. Even that had simply been a cage, even if he had been shown kindness by others treated the same as him. But now, he got to find his own path. Find his own home. He took a couple of deep, slightly shaky breaths, and smiled.</p><p>Charles gripped his hand in return. "Gladly. Come on. Home."</p><p>The words were accompanied by a sense of fondness and certainty, shining through the telepathic bond between them, and Erik felt hope blossom within him. Even Mystique nodded, although she looked a little uncertain.</p><p>"How are we getting there?" Erik asked, wincing a little at the pain in his wrist. He wasn't looking forwards to a long carriage ride when his wrist was almost certainly broken, but he knew that it would probably be necessary.</p><p>"Azazel," Logan answered. Erik raised an eyebrow at that information - Azazel had betrayed them. Logan shrugged. "Turns out Shaw was keeping someone special to him prisoner, until you let'em out."</p><p>When Logan said it, Erik could see the logic - a teleporter was the reason that the prisoner had escaped. He was in pain though, and aware of Shaw's corpse no longer heating his cufflinks and pocketwatch, and he was shaking a little. He was trying to stay calm, but he didn't know if he could.</p><p>***</p><p>Charles wrapped his arms around Erik, shushing him softly as he brushed against Erik's mind. The pain of controlling Shaw still ached, but he could tell at this moment Erik needed him more than he needed to worry about his wrist. He managed a smile. </p><p>"You survived. The nightmare has ended."</p><p>Erik looked at him, and Charles could tell he wasn't sure of the truth of it, was scarcely able to let himself believe it. But Charles smiled and nodded, and cautiously Erik echoed the movement, a nervous smile lingering on his lips. </p><p>"That wrist of yours looks bad, Erik," Logan interrupted. "Let me take a look, patch it up." He moved closer, grasping Erik's arm with surprising tenderness. "Yeah, that needs a doctor. I'll have Az take us home, go and grab Hank."</p><p>Erik nodded slowly, and Charles could feel the lack of comprehension there - Erik was overwhelmed, and Logan might as well have spoken another language. Still, Logan was keeping his voice gentle, and even Raven seemed willing to respect the fear he was experiencing, which helped. His mind hurt, but he let Erik know he wasn't alone, brushing against his thoughts softly.</p><p>Logan strode off to fetch Azazel, Raven keeping an eye for any danger, and Charles longing to sweep Erik up against his lap and stroke his hair, protect him from the cruelties of the world. He tried to push those thoughts away, but they lingered. He managed a smile.</p><p>"We'll be home soon."</p><p>Erik nodded slowly, and yet this time there was comprehension there - he knew he was going home, he wanted it. He understood that.</p><p>When Azazel walked into the room, Logan at his side, Erik straightened up, addressing Azazel sharply in Prussian. Azazel snorted, gesturing and answering in kind, his tail flicking in irritation. Whatever was being said seemed to resolve, with Erik nodding and Azazel glancing down.</p><p>Charles looked at Erik curiously, and Erik shrugged. "He had his reasons for betrayal. Not good ones, but they are resolved."</p><p>"I already tell them that," Azazel muttered, walking over. "All hold together please. We go to Xavier's house first."</p><p>The world became smoke, and Charles took a deep breath, then coughed, finding himself in his chair in his study, Azazel looking down at him curiously. Erik was right beside him, and Raven and Logan a short distance away.</p><p>"I take them, then come back with doctor?" Azazel offered, and Charles nodded, even if he wanted more time to talk to Raven and to Logan - the longer they delayed, the more Erik was in pain, and he wasn't willing to make Erik wait.</p><p>Logan shot him a grin, seeming to understand. "I'll come and talk to you soon, Chuck. You look after Erik now, I'm trusting you with him."</p><p>For all that it was a joke, he knew in a way Logan was serious as well. Raven waved and reached for Azazel's hand, and then a moment later the three disappeared in a burst of smoke.</p><p>Erik let Charles guide him to a seat, shaking his head. "Shaw's notebooks were still in the lab."</p><p>"I'll have Azazel fetch them," Charles said quickly. Erik was free from the nightmare that had dominated his life for so long, he wasn't going to let that get taken away or make him have to return.</p><p>Erik shivered a little, leaning so that he was in contact with Charles's legs. Charles couldn't feel it, but he could tell that the contact was bringing Erik pleasure, and so he had no plan to object. </p><p>"Hank's a good doctor. Your hand will be fine."</p><p>"Charles. I went in ready to die. Killing Shaw... ending that monster was the victory. Anything else is an additional boon. If it can't be resolved... I'll adapt." His gaze flickered to Charles's chair, and he looked at him with curiosity. </p><p>"Not tonight," Charles told him. "I'll tell you when your hand has been looked at and you've got some rest."</p><p>Erik nodded, and the smile that rested on his lips was full of trust and peace. He looked happy, as though the great burden he carried had eased a little. Charles nodded, squeezing his unharmed hand just as Azazel appeared once more, Hank in his wake.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to everyone reading and commenting :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charles found himself rocking backwards and forwards a little, rolling to and fro in lieu of pacing. Hank was gentle when treating Erik's wrist, bandaging and splinting it with a practiced hand, but Charles still hated seeing him injured. He was aware of how close he had come to losing the other man, and it wasn't something he wished to dwell on.</p><p>Shaw was a monster. A monster that was dead now, but the threat of him lingered, chilling Charles despite the warmth of the fire.</p><p>He hadn't told the children that they had returned yet. He wanted to, wanted to offer Erik that comfort, but he was sure that they would demand Erik embrace them - and knowing Erik, he was stubborn enough that he would do it even with a broken wrist.</p><p>Erik kept glancing at him as Hank set his wrist.</p><p><i>Are you well?</i> Charles asked, his mind brushing Erik's own, full of concern.</p><p><i>I am. Simply checking that you are still here,</i> Erik answered, and Charles could sense the sheer sincerity behind those words, the way that the other man was doing all he could to stay close to him.</p><p>"I'm not going anywhere," Charles said aloud. "I missed you whilst you were away, and I can't let you leave again."</p><p>He braced himself for a spike of fear from Erik. Instead the other man smiled at him brightly. "I'm not intending to leave."</p><p>"Still, I had best make sure?" Charles suggested with a smile.</p><p>
  <i>Planning to imprison me in your spare room once more?</i>
</p><p><i>I thought you'd be more comfortable in your own room,</i> Charles answered. <i>I left it just as you had it when you departed, although I had Alex place fresh flowers on the desk every day.</i></p><p>
  <i>You didn't know I was coming home.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>No, but I hoped. And you did so marvellously with the garden. I wanted it to feel like your own space when you returned. And apparently my faith was well placed.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>How do you say that?</i>
</p><p><i>Well, you're here, aren't you?</i> Charles asked, a hint of smugness settling on his expression. </p><p>Hank snorted softly as Erik grinned wryly. "Please, stop distracting my patient." </p><p>"As you wish. Is his hand-"</p><p>"It should be fixable back to the level of use he had previously," Hank answered. "Rest, Erik. Logan doesn't want to see you injured."</p><p>Erik nodded, and Charles felt a swell of fondness in his chest, touched by seeing Hank so confident and in his element. The man would have made a fine doctor, if not for his appearance, and Charles was glad for what little he could do to encourage him. </p><p>"I'll try."</p><p>"Thank you." Hank nodded. "Do call me if there's any sign of infection or fever, but hopefully... hopefully we should have prevented it." He smiled at Erik, and shook Charles's hand, before departing with Azazel. Left alone, Charles smiled at Erik.</p><p>"You're back."</p><p>"I appear to be," Erik acknowledged, as Charles wheeled up to sit beside him. "There are still monsters out there, Charles. There are still people who need my help."</p><p>"Our help," Charles corrected gently. "You won't have to face it alone."</p><p>Erik smiled at him softly, before he leaned forwards, his eyes meeting Charles's. He reached up with one hand, cupping Charles's cheek, and Charles nodded slightly. It was Erik who closed the gap between them, kissing Charles with surprising softness, his damaged hand resting on Charles's lap as his uninjured thumb brushed against Charles's cheek.</p><p>Charles wasn't entirely inexperienced in the ways of love. There had been moments in his youth and his studies where he had enjoyed dalliances, and he had hoped once that he and Lady Frost could come to an understanding - before the understanding he had reached was that her interests lay contrary to his own and that she refused to stand in a man's shadow. But he had thought with the accident that such days were behind him. He had accepted his place as a lifelong bachelor, raising children and offering sanctuary to those who would go on to live fuller lives than he ever could. Yet Erik reawakened hopes that he had thought long forgotten. He knew that what they were sharing would be considered scandalous - less for Erik's gender than his social standing, than his criminality, than his temperament. And yet, with Erik's lips against his own, such concerns seemed a lifetime away.</p><p>Erik pulled back, a smile lingering, and Charles reached up to brush his thumb over them, feeling the softness of them, the beauty of Erik's smile. He wanted to kiss him again, and again, and take away all the pain that Erik had ever known. But he knew that would have to wait. </p><p>After all, Charles knew he would not be the only one overjoyed at Erik's return. He pulled back and smiled. "Do you wish to tell the children that we have come home to them?"</p><p>A flicker of uncertainty crossed Erik's face - one that Charles understood. But a moment later it was replaced with pure conviction, utter certainty shining in his eyes. "We should. I've missed them."</p><p>"Mortimer took your absence badly. He feared he had caused it."</p><p>"He didn't. I thought of writing him, and of writing to you, dozens of times. Yet I never... I couldn't expose you to the risk that man posed, Charles. He would have destroyed you given the chance. I thought I couldn't..." He swallowed, shaking his head a little. "He's gone now."</p><p>"He's gone," Charles agreed. "You ended it. The nightmare is over, and you are safe..." </p><p>Erik's hand squeezed his own for a moment, before he pulled back. "We are safe." He stood up, stretching, and Charles allowed his eyes to linger for a few moments on the beauty of Erik's body, knowing that now he was permitted to look his fill, that no obstacle remained between them. He could have allowed himself to drift off into daydreams, but he knew what needed to be done first - he reached out for the children's minds, gently tugging on them and letting them know that they were wanted.</p><p>There was a moment's pause before he felt their approach, Jean's golden thoughts poking at the edge of his own. <i>He's back, isn't he, Papa? I haven't told Mortimer, but I'm with him.</i></p><p>Charles sent back a wave of affirmation, squeezing Erik's hand and then wheeling forwards a little. "Remember to be careful of that arm-" he reminded Erik, as Jean appeared, Scott beside her, and Mortimer half a step behind.</p><p>There was a pause as the older boy looked at Erik, and Charles felt a flood of emotion pour from him - fear and confusion and desperate, raw hope. He stayed still, even though he clearly longed to run to him.</p><p>"Mortimer," Erik spoke, breaking the silence and stepping forwards. "I missed you so much..." He walked to the youth, wrapping his arms around him, and Mortimer cuddled against him, pressing his face into Erik's shoulder. Erik shushed him softly, rubbing his hand against Mortimer's back, soothing him. "You did so well."</p><p>"You came back..." Mortimer whispered, and Erik squeezed him close, and Charles could feel Mortimer's terror giving way as he realised he was cared about, that he wasn't alone. Erik pulled back, turning to Scott, staring at the rose quartz visor on his face. </p><p>"Hank was able to help," Scott said softly. "I can see a little now."</p><p>"And Jean is still taking care of you?" Erik teased, making the boy blush a little but nod in answer. Erik smiled at the two of them, continuing to hold Mortimer. "Charles and I are going to work together. And I plan to..." He looked Charles in the eye and continued. "I plan to stay. I might have to leave sometimes for work, but I intend to come home if I possibly can." He shook his head, and looked at Charles. "We are going to be a family, aren't we?"</p><p>"We are," Charles agreed, leaning forwards and ruffling Jean's hair, making the little girl squirm and wiggle in response. "Now, why don't you three go and pester Alex and Darwin for some shortbread, and we can have dinner together."</p><p>The younger children ran off, giggling. Mortimer lingered a moment longer, reaching out to squeeze Erik's hand. "It's good to have you back."</p><p>"It's good to be back," Erik reassured him. "And you're doing wonderfully, Mortimer. Has Charles taken good care of you?"</p><p>"Mistah Charles 'as been amazing," Mortimer answered, and Charles could tell the sincerity behind those words. The boy squared his shoulders a little, gathering his strength. "But I am real glad tha' you are home."</p><p>"I'm glad to be home as well. Go and have some shortbread, Mortimer." He gently ushered the boy away, leaving the two of them side by side. Charles could tell Erik was nervous after the kiss - but it was a hopeful kind of nervous. The kind of nervous that came from seeing a future that had never been imagined spread out before you.</p><p>It was the kind of nervous that Charles felt as well.</p><p>***</p><p>Logan knew his circus was safe. There was no sign of Creed or Stryker, and Azazel had already proved his loyalty. The man's partner was recovering well, according to Hank, and Azazel did seem to want to win back his trust. Illyana and her brother were settling in well, and were both a spectacular addition to the show and some much needed security - if everything went wrong, the two of them would be able to get everyone to safety.</p><p>He didn't need to be afraid. He could look towards the future with hope, and dream of what was coming next, what they were going to achieve. </p><p>But he still expected to see Victor stepping out from the shadows. Still felt haunted by him, afraid of him and what he would do to the family he had built.</p><p>He dreamed and in his dreams he watched Creed striding through flames, to the caravan where his family were sheltering - the caravan that he had abandoned him in. The caravan that should have kept them safe. He saw Creed step inside, and then all he saw was blood.</p><p>He cried out, thrashing awake, and saw Hank gazing at him in fear, the girls cowering behind him.</p><p>"You're safe," Hank told him. "We're all safe. It's okay. You can calm down." And Hank said it so easily. As though that was all there was to it, as though calming down was simple, safe. And he'd laid awake that night, knowing that if he slept he could harm the people that meant the world to him.</p><p>He was haunted. He was jumping at shadows, knowing that maybe one day Stryker would come calling, to try and tear down all he had built.</p><p>He had won so far, when that had happened. But he couldn't know if it would happen again, if things would end, if they would be alright.</p><p>He knew that his employees had noticed the difference, spotted the fear in their eyes, the way that Kurt startled when he got too close. Some nights he heard the boy scream - caught up in nightmares. Angel had moved back to her own caravan, and the boy was clearly struggling with being alone.</p><p>Logan knew that he had to prove himself the leader, act with confidence and certainty, prove to everyone that he was going to be able to manage whatever life threw at them. But he was finding it hard.</p><p>He paced around, sniffing the air for any hint as to if there was danger coming. He knew there wasn't. But his instincts were afraid. They didn't need to be. </p><p>He sat down by a fire, shivering a little, leaning his head against a caravan. It didn't take long for Hank to find him, walking towards him and resting his head on Logan's shoulder, his fingers tangling with Logan's own.</p><p>"Hey," Logan said softly.</p><p>"Bad dreams?"</p><p>"I'm just afraid of what is coming next," Logan muttered.</p><p>"We keep going." Hank smiled. "All of us. We are a family, and we have a show to do tomorrow. And we need our ringmaster, if you think you feel up to it."</p><p>"I will try," Logan said with a slight shrug. "No promises."</p><p>"Well, I am sure Laura can do it if you can't," Hank answered with a smug smile. "She's a smart kid. Natural performer. And loved."</p><p>"Always," Logan agreed, taking a deep breath. "Thank you." He knew he was lucky to have Hank. That Hank had never once wavered from his side, even early on when things had been uncertain, when he'd had days when he'd not known who he was.</p><p>Laura didn't remember before. She knew the circus, knew her papa and her father and the life they had built. The nightmares that haunted Logan weren't a part of her life, and together they could make sure that they never were.</p><p>"Come back to bed." Hank smiled. "Kurt's looking after the children tonight..."</p><p>Logan had to smile at that, getting to his feet and reaching for Hank's hand, letting him lead him back to their caravan.</p><p>It helped to keep the nightmares at bay, knowing that he was wanted, that he was loved, that his presence meant something to Hank and to his daughters. And when he stepped into the ring, it was easy to perform. He knew everyone was staring - they were staring because they were meant to stare, because they were in awe. It wasn't fear or disgust that lit up their gaze, but admiration.</p><p>Kurt was confident on the stage. He knew what he was doing, a natural on the trapeze, moving from place to place without hesitation, teleporting and twisting and spinning, bowing at the applause. He looked happy. </p><p>He wasn't the only one. The audience were applauding, and Logan relaxed into it, showing off what he could do, introducing each mutant in turn. He was a showman, and it felt natural. The show finished, and they bowed and curtseyed and the humans cheered and waved and shouted. And then they left, going away, Azazel saying goodbye to them, one final glance of strangeness as they returned to their normal life.</p><p>The performers packed away, Logan making sure the tent was empty as Kurt gathered up dropped peanut cartons.</p><p>There was someone else there. He sniffed the air, working out where the man was, then walked towards him. The remaining man was quite young, around Kurt's age, dressed in an oversized coat which fitted awkwardly on his slender frame. He was stunningly beautiful, soft blonde curls and dazzling blue eyes. Pretty in a way that Logan had never been interested in, and Victor would have wanted to sink his claws into.</p><p>As Logan approached, the youth stumbled backwards, cerulean eyes wide with fear.</p><p>"What're you doing here, bub?"</p><p>The fact the boy didn't turn and run immediately impressed him. He'd half expected that, for the youth to be overwhelmed. Logan's mere presence, and the way he acted, had been more than enough to scare most humans who had lingered, wanting to try their luck with any of the mutants, staying to laugh or see if there was anything else available. There wasn't.</p><p>But the boy stood his ground, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "I'm interested in joining your group." The boy's elegant voice barely shook, and he gazed up above Logan's head. </p><p>Logan looked him up and down. "This place is for mutie freaks, kid." </p><p>The boy stayed where he was stood, and Logan nodded, allowing himself to smile for the first time since the boy's arrival. "Show me."</p><p>The boy nodded, shrugging off the bulky coat and then reaching for his shirt with trembling fingers, fumbling with his buttons. He looked afraid. Logan felt guilty for intimidating him when he was so clearly out of his depth. </p><p>"You okay, kid?" Logan asked, and the boy nodded, shrugging out of the shirt to reveal a leather harness wrapped around the top half of his body. He began to fiddle with the buckles. </p><p>Logan could see something poking above his shoulders. He couldn't work out exactly what it was as the boy undid each clip, releasing the straps that had dug into his skin. Logan realised the boy must have been in pain from it, but eventually he freed himself, shrugging it off.</p><p>"My name's not kid. It's Warren." As he spoke, a beautiful pair of wings unfurled behind him. "But I guess you'd call me Angel." He stretched, and the wings fluttered, each feather bending and straightening in turn.</p><p>"That's quite the gift you've got there."</p><p>"My father says that I have to hide it. He... it hurt." Warren's voice trembled a little. "Every day. Forcing myself to wear that, to try and be human when I am not... my father will disinherit me for this. But I can't... I can't live in pain any longer."</p><p>"You don't have to." Logan smiled at him, offering him his hand. "Good to have you with us, Warren. We tend to only use stage names when we're performing." He smirked, and the boy ducked his head, shivering a little in the cold but shaking Logan's hand.</p><p>"Come and sit by the fire, warm yourself up. I'll have one of the dancers sort you out a shirt that won't trap your wings." Logan considered. "And I think I know just where you can stay, as long as you're alright sharing."</p><p>"I am." The boy smiled nervously. "If... if my father asks for me to go back... you won't let him take me, will you?" He sounded anxious, and Logan wouldn't let that anxiety continue. He reached out and squeezed his hand.</p><p>"You're quite safe. I'm not going to let anyone take you away if you don't want to go. We look out for each other here."</p><p>"Thank you." The boy settled on a seat by the fire as Logan went off to find someone to make him a shirt, and then he knocked on Kurt's door. "Kurt? You in here?"</p><p>There was a burst of smoke, and the boy appeared in front of his caravan, his tail wiggling a little. "Ja?" </p><p>"I think I got a new roommate for you. A runaway. You'll keep an eye on him for me?"</p><p>"Yes, Mister Logan. I vill take the best care, the very best," Kurt said quickly, determination obvious in his voice. "He vill not need to be afraid."</p><p>"That's my boy. We're just having a shirt made up for him, then you can show him round for me, right?"</p><p>"With pleasure," Kurt agreed, all smiles. "Did you zink that I did vell tonight?"</p><p>"You did great, kid," Logan reassured, and Kurt beamed, blushing a brilliant purple. </p><p>The circus was still a place of refuge. People still came here because they needed somewhere they would be accepted, and Logan could provide that. He smiled, leading Kurt over to where Warren was waiting.</p><p>***</p><p>Kurt wanted to help at the circus. Mister Logan was ever so kind letting him stay, and helped him to feel like he was somewhere safe, somewhere he belonged. So he did what he could to be useful - babysitting Mister Hank and Mister Logan's daughters, ferrying around information, finding things that were lost. His strange hands made helping with the cooking hard, but he tried to clean up and to keep things tidy. </p><p>He missed Mortimer, but he knew that Mortimer hadn't been happy here. He himself was happy here. Endlessly, unbelievably happy, the kind of happy he had only dreamed of being when he had been trapped with Creed. </p><p>And now, Mister Logan was asking him to help look after someone new to the circus. To help them feel like they belonged, just like he did.</p><p>He followed in Mister Logan's footsteps to the fire- and froze a little at what he saw, scarce able to believe it.</p><p>Beside the fire sat an angel, snowy wings stretched out to either side. He had a coat and some other fabric on his lap, and his chest was bare, revealing alabaster skin that seemed to glow in the firelight.</p><p>"This is Warren," Logan was saying, giving him a gentle shove on the shoulder when he didn't move closer of his own accord. "He's new. Thought maybe he could share with you."</p><p>"Ja..." Kurt mumbled, gazing at the angel in awe and wonder. He wasn't a total fool, recognised that the boy must have been a mutant. But he looked like he had come from the heavens. His own mutation was almost demonic, but this youth was stunning. He wanted to reach out and worship him. He cleared his throat, trying to focus. "Hallo."</p><p>"Hello," Warren mumbled, his voice soft, shy. "I saw you perform. The Incredible Nightcrawler."</p><p>"Ja... That... that is me." Kurt answered, his face heating up a little with a blush. "It... it is good to meet... Very good to meet you." He wanted to look away, but he also wanted to gaze at the other man for every moment that he could. Warren smiled, and Kurt felt his insides twist. For a long time he had been alone, had prayed for a friend or companion to chase away his fears. And now an angel had appeared before him.</p><p>"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," Logan muttered, sniffing the air and wandering off. Warren shifted a little awkwardly, shivering in the cold, and wrapping his wings around himself.</p><p>"I can get you a blanket?"</p><p>"Thank you," Warren answered. "What is your name? He said we don't use..."</p><p>"Kurt. Kurt Vagner," Kurt answered, his voice trembling a little. He felt almost dizzy, but so excited.</p><p>"Warren. Just Warren, I suppose." </p><p>"Mister Logan said you'd run away." Kurt disappeared in a burst of smoke, reappearing holding a blanket, which he held out. Warren wrapped it around himself, shivering a little, and Kurt wanted to keep him safe from the cold. </p><p>"It is okay. You're safe now. It's good here."</p><p>"I am sure it is." Warren nodded, pulling the blanket around his shoulders. "I... I heard that circuses were... cruel. That mutants were kept in tiny cages. That they were beaten and used for experiments. He said that was what he was saving me from."</p><p>"It can be like that," Kurt mumbled. "I... was in a bad place before. But zis... here is good. Here is kind. It is family." He nodded. "No cages. No need to be afraid."</p><p>"Thank you," Warren nodded. "I... I wanted to try."</p><p>"I hope zat you will be happy here." Kurt grinned. "I like... I like helping people. So... if I can."</p><p>Warren smiled, and Kurt found himself smiling back.</p><p>***</p><p>Erik had told himself on countless occasions over the year that the day would come when he would kill Shaw. When he would ensure that the nightmare was over, that it wouldn't be repeated. And yet.</p><p>He had never really pictured an afterwards. He could have lied, spun tales about helping more mutants, doing what was right, a million other simple things, but the truth was that he had never pictured an after. He had never pictured an outcome where he survived. Not like this - not intact, alive, hopeful even. He didn't know how to explain the emptiness that had settled in his chest.</p><p>He knew he should be overjoyed. The nightmare had finished. The monster that he had feared for so long was dead. And yet. Instead of joy he felt something approaching horror, a cold heavy emptiness which ate away at his insides.</p><p>Shaw was gone. And ever since Shaw had gazed through the bars of the cage he was held in, smiling a little, then turning to Stryker... Shaw had been a part of Erik's life. As certain as his own breath, his own heartbeat. Even when he had escaped, the man had still haunted him. And the idea that it was finished - truly finished, that Shaw would never again smirk as he introduced a new experiment - Erik didn't know how to process that.</p><p>Charles's hand reached for his, and Erik surrendered to it, leaning in for another tender kiss. He felt hope, and confusion and belief that maybe things would be better now. That felt like a dangerous thought to have - that thinking things were better was almost asking them to get worse. But he couldn't extinguish that hope.</p><p>"I told you the children had missed you," Charles teased, his voice gentle. "You're an important part of their life, you realise. They consider you family."</p><p>Erik wasn't really sure what to do with that information. It was so easy to picture himself as a problem, and so hard to imagine that he was somewhere he belonged. But he thought of Mortimer, of Jean and Scott, and he realised he wanted to be involved with them.</p><p>More than that, he thought of Charles, and knew he wanted to stay involved in the other man's life, for as long as he was able to. It was hard, reshaping a future he had never dreamed of. But he was determined to do it.</p><p>Charles's hand holding his was a grounding presence, a sign that he had something to hold onto as the world buffeted him. He felt Charles's mind brush against his, quietly asking permission to have access, and he welcomed him in.</p><p>He felt Charles's thoughts wrap around his own, their minds racing together, tangling and untangling. It felt comforting. He could see Charles's thoughts almost as clearly as his own, felt the fondness Charles felt for him, the exasperated affection he held towards Mystique, the determination his daughter would grow up in a better world than he had known. The thoughts were loud but beautiful in their loudness, and after a few moments it faded back to a background hum.</p><p>
  <i>You aren't alone, Erik.</i>
</p><p><i>I know,</i> Erik answered, then cleared his throat. "Is it wrong that... I almost... I don't miss him. But it feels almost like I do."</p><p>"Not wrong," Charles said carefully. "He was a foundation in your life for a long time. Losing that certainty... it is hard. I understand. When I lost my stepfather... I blamed myself. He was never as cruel as Shaw, but he... he made me suffer, and yet when I found myself without him I was unsettled. Unsure. Wondering if I had made some kind of mistake, if I could manage devoid of all he had given me..." Charles took Erik's wounded hand in his, and brought a tender kiss to the back of it. "But I ended up stronger. I was more than him - I always had been."</p><p>"Thank you," Erik murmured.</p><p>"You should eat." Charles wheeled towards the door. "I've got some friends coming to visit tomorrow. You needn't worry, they're mutants."</p><p>"Exactly how many people do you have working for you, Charles?"</p><p>"They don't work for me, they assist me. Find me information and the like..." Charles answered, and Erik found himself smiling a little despite himself. Charles was by his side as he reached the dining room, smiling at the children who were waiting.</p><p>"I know you've not been feeling hungry," Charles said. "But hopefully this will help."</p><p>Erik nodded, noticing that Charles had arranged for several of his favourite foods to be presented. He wasn't sure if he should have been bothered by the fact Charles had put thought into this, the fact that he was showing care, but instead he found that it was a comfort. Charles's hand squeezed his own, and he made his way to his seat.</p><p>Mortimer beamed at him, eyes alight with hope, and Erik smiled. The boy would never understand the monster that Erik and Charles had removed from the world. It was better that way.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Huge thank you to everyone for their support, your comments mean a lot to me right now!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charles felt like his dream had come true, now that Erik seemed to be considering staying with him. It was the morning after their triumphant return, and Charles knew that the peace he felt wouldn't last. But he wanted to make the most of it. Erik had not been seen at breakfast. The other man was still clearly shaken after all that had occurred with Shaw, was understandably haunted by it. But he was making progress, moving forwards, and Charles felt pride in him for that. </p><p>He sat in his chair, watching Jean and Scott running around outside in the carefree way that only children had. He was glad that even though she was gifted, and Scott a mutant, they had yet to understand the true burden of those words, the true cost of them. For now, they were simply playing, and as Jean lifted her friend into the air with her ability, Charles smiled.</p><p>He could feel a mind approaching - Erik's carefully ordered thoughts, tinged with concentration. The door opened, and Erik walked in carrying a tea tray. </p><p>"I brought this for us," Erik offered by way of explanation. "I thought you might want a drink before the arrival of your friends."</p><p>"So considerate," Charles answered fondly. "Take a seat, share with me..."</p><p>Erik settled into the chair opposite him, close enough that their knees brushed, and gazed at Charles.</p><p>"What's bothering you?"</p><p>"Do you regret it?" Erik frowned.</p><p>"Regret what?"</p><p>"We killed him, Charles. I did it, but without your help I would have been overpowered. His blood is on your hands as well as my own. We killed a monster. Do you regret it?"</p><p>"No." Charles met Erik's gaze, seeing the mixture of fire and fear that burned within. "In an ideal world, I would not want to kill anyone, mutant, gifted or human. But no matter how I long for it... right now we are not in a perfect world. There are those who would do us great harm. And while I take no joy in their death, if in the end it comes down to their lives or our own..." He sighed and shook his head, looking down. "I don't want to be a murderer. If it was up to me, I would live without such a stain on my conscience. But it is not solely up to me. Not when there are mutants suffering. Stryker escaped, and I have to believe he will not be able to pose a danger, that Logan can protect what is his. But Victor and Shaw? I have thought it through dozens of times, and yet I always come to the same inevitability. Either they die, or they continue on the path they are on, and more of our kind suffer. It does not bring me comfort, to state that. But at least I know the truth."</p><p>Erik nodded slowly, his uninjured hand reaching for Charles's. It was a surprisingly gentle touch.</p><p>"You aren't a killer, Charles. And I know it isn't easy for you. But you did… you did what you had to do. You saved lives."</p><p>"And that's what I want to go on doing, Erik. I won't ever be able to stride forth the way you do."</p><p>"I know." A teasing smile lingered on Erik's lips. "I don't expect you to. That's what makes us such a good team. We can work together." </p><p>Charles nodded. It wasn't reassuring, a future where Erik went out alone to face all the dangers of the world. But he understood that it was what Erik needed. It was what was right for him, and he had to accept that. They had to work together, and he had to try and acknowledge who Erik was, not merely who he wished him to be. Erik deserved that.</p><p>He pulled his hand from Erik's to take a sip of tea, amazed by how comfortable the moment felt. Erik grinned. "So tell me about your friends?"</p><p>Charles smiled fondly. "They're somewhat... unconventional. Douglas is a young man who intends to one day work as a diplomat, but is currently deep in his studies. He is gifted, although I do not believe he has registered the fact - any language that he encounters he is able to speak and translate, making him a remarkable asset when trying to help people who do not speak English and are frightened and afraid. He is helping our kind not because he is one of us, but because he believes it is right, and that is the kind of behaviour I feel we should encourage. And his partner... well." Charles was half tempted to just wait and see what Erik made of him. "He is one of the most unusual mutants that I have met."</p><p>"What aren't you telling me, Charles?" Erik asked with a playful smile.</p><p>"You'll see." Charles concentrated, seeing if he could sense the approaching minds of his friends. They were running a little late, and as always it was strange to feel the shape of Warlock's mind - unlike most, his body was not a traditional shape, and so his thoughts were almost dispersed around his form. They felt bright, almost like lightning, or the magnetism which surrounded Erik's thoughts. "They will be here soon. Douglas does not know about my gift, but he knows about Jean's talents..." He glanced over to the window, seeing the approaching carriage. </p><p>Erik frowned a little. "It's strange. I can feel...something. It isn't quite metal, but..."</p><p>Charles watched as the young man stepped from the carriage, approaching the estate, feeling the sheer comfort and relief he felt. Seeing Warlock emerge was always strange, the shadow-like mutant seeming to pour from Douglas's form before lighting up with golden threads. </p><p>"Do you want to introduce me?" Erik asked, but Charles could feel the concern from Douglas's mind, the worry that something was wrong or he would be observed.</p><p>"Not today. Another time would be good. I'll speak to him. Just let him know that I want him to report back on anything he hears around experiments - he's normally good at informing me, but with Azazel fetching Shaw's notes there are some new leads..."</p><p>Erik paused, and nodded. "I'll go and see how the children are getting on with their classes."</p><p>Charles smiled in agreement, looking up at Erik with a great deal of fondness. It was not a surprise to realise that he wanted to kiss the other man, but to feel the sensation returned just as brightly by Erik was a change, something he could never have expected. He had always assumed he would be a bachelor until he died. </p><p>Of course, he would remain a bachelor if he and Erik pursued this further, but a bachelor of a very different kind. He paused, beckoning Erik back. Erik returned to his side, kissing him for a moment before he pulled away. The fondness lingered between them, even as he went to meet with Douglas, setting out plans whilst he remained secure in the background. He was going to change things. He was going to help his people, and he would do it in his own way.</p><p>***</p><p>Kurt lay in his hammock, trying not to stare at Warren who was lying in his own, those beautiful white wings stretched out on either side of him. Although he had been provided with shirts to wear around the camp, when he was in their own room he seemed to enjoy foregoing them, and Kurt found he rather liked Warren without a shirt.</p><p>Even so, he couldn't help noticing the abrasions on his shoulders and hips, reminding Kurt of the bindings on his own wrists. "Zat... Zat looks sore. I can... I can go and ask for some medicine. Mister Hank is a very good doctor..."</p><p>"It doesn't hurt that much. Anyway, I saw that doctor earlier, and he said it will heal soon."</p><p>"Vat.... Vat happened?" Kurt couldn't begin to comprehend what could have caused such injuries.</p><p>"Father said I had to hide my wings. That they were dangerous. So I had to keep them tied back... he had a harness made. But it... it was crushing me to make my wings fit, it was... painful." He swallowed, looking down, and Kurt's heart ached to see such a beautiful young man so ashamed.</p><p>"You did not deserve zat. No one does. It is cruel."</p><p>Warren squirmed so that he could sit up, his wings stretching to either side. "You really think that it was wrong?"</p><p>"Of course. No one should be in pain just because zey look different. Your wings are beautiful. But even if zey were not, you should not have been made to hurt..." He shook his head, reaching out to take Warren's hand in his own, desperate for him to understand. "You did not deserve to suffer, and I am sorry zat you were made to feel that way." </p><p>Warren smiled at him shyly, and Kurt felt warmth sweep up inside of him. He didn't have words for how happy he felt when Warren looked at him, or how he felt warm inside. He wanted to keep it happening, wanted to make Warren smile. He was so glad to have the other youth as a friend.</p><p>Warren reached out for his hand, and Kurt let Warren take it, allowing him to caress his strange fingers. "You are so kind, Kurt," Warren mumbled. "And I can't believe that the world hasn’t been kind to you."</p><p>"It has not," Kurt agreed. He felt ashamed - Warren was there, looking like an angel, and he knew he was far from that - he was ugly, strange-looking. His skin was blue, his hands and feet unusual, his teeth pointed, his eyes amber. He had a tail. Worst of all were the scars that his body was littered with. "But I believe zat you should be kind. Even when things are not kind to you."</p><p>"You're a good person, Kurt," Warren told him, a fingertip tracing one of the scars. He smiled. "I like your mutation."</p><p>Kurt was sure he had to be blushing. "You... You cannot mean zat."</p><p>"Of course I do. You are striking. And you are good with teleporting, and your tail is useful," Warren gestured to where Kurt's tail had wrapped around the rope at the end of his hammock. "I think that you look wonderful."</p><p>"Danke..." Kurt mumbled. He couldn't imagine that being true, but Warren said it with such certainty that he almost believed his words. He had certainly never attempted flirtation with anyone before, and he had assumed that Creed's scars had meant he would never be able to again - that even if someone could look past his mutation, they would not be able to look past these marks. And yet Warren seemed willing to do both. He wondered what it would be like to accept his looks.</p><p>"You're sweet, Kurt. And you're honest. Most of the people I have met... they aren't like that. The boys at school are always jockeying for position, wanting to prove that they are the most important person because of who their father is, or because of the wealth they were born into. And you..." Warren shrugged. "You're not like that."</p><p>"Nein. No, I am not. But... nor are you. You came here."</p><p>"I wanted to see who I could be. I just thought I would watch, but when I saw... this seemed like hope. I'm glad I tried. I'm glad I met you."</p><p>"I am glad about that as well," Kurt reassured quickly. "It is most… most wonderful to know you."</p><p>Warren smiled back at him, and Kurt felt comfort and joy settle in his chest. He wondered if Warren was flirting with him or simply talking. He decided he didn't mind - either way, he got to spend time with Warren, and their friendship gave him a sense of purpose he hadn't had before. He took a deep breath.</p><p>"Ze marks. Zey are scars. From a monster. But I have a home now, and so do you."</p><p>Warren nodded, tracing another mark. "I'm sorry. They wanted to hurt you. But you... Kurt, you are you. No one sees you and sees the scars. They see the Incredible Nightcrawler. And then, if they are lucky, they see Kurt."</p><p>Kurt sealed those words inside his heart, to cling to when he needed them most, and then stretched, standing up. "Do you want to work on your routine?"</p><p>"I would," Warren agreed, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on. "Could you?"</p><p>Kurt fumbled his way through fastening the buttons, holding in place the fabric around his wings, allowing freedom of movement whilst keeping him from exposing his skin. "Zere."</p><p>"Thank you. Come on, you can help me to practice," Warren stated, and grinned. Kurt smiled shyly, because he couldn't help thinking that sounded very fun indeed, and he couldn't wait to see what they could do together. </p><p>Kurt led him over to the tent, and then considered - that was an enclosed space, and if Warren wasn't used to flight he might struggle. "Ve can try out here?"</p><p>Warren nodded, taking a few deep breaths, and then flapping his wings. It took a moment, but he lifted a short distance from the ground before plummeting down again. He took a deep breath and tried again.</p><p>"Be patient. You have not had much practice yet," Kurt pointed out. "So you need to be kind. And you will learn. I'm still getting better at teleporting. But we can learn..." </p><p>Warren's answering smile made him feel very safe, and he was sure that together, they would manage to master whatever challenges lay ahead. He couldn't wait to see what happened next</p><p>***.</p><p>Logan didn't find it easy to trust Azazel. Not after the man had betrayed him utterly, put the lives of all of them in danger. But Logan wasn't his brother. Creed would have gutted Azazel for doing that, and Logan... Logan found it within himself to be patient. To find a way to hold back, and see what happened next. </p><p>Azazel knew he was on thin ice. One more betrayal, and Logan would not act so kindly. But it seemed to be working - he seemed to be trying to move on, and if Azazel could manage that, Logan supposed he should as well. Regardless, Azazel was a useful person to have close at hand, and now that he had been reunited with his lover he seemed earnest in his attempts to rectify his mistakes. That was why he had taken Hank to see to Erik, transported all of them to Shaw's hideaway and then back - he was making up for what he had done.</p><p>The circus was growing. Warren, the new boy, seemed to be the awkward mixture of cocky and afraid that many of the younger mutants wore as a second skin - they knew they would face nastiness and tried to be stronger than it, and sometimes they failed. But Kurt seemed to have very much taken a shine to the boy.</p><p>Logan found himself wandering around the camp, pondering the idea of them performing. He had watched earlier as Warren had tried to take to the air - his wings were large enough, but a lifetime of being told to conceal what he was had left the muscles weakened. He would get there, but not today. </p><p>That was alright. Logan had to hope that his troop would have all the time that they could possibly need, that they would be able to live the life they wished to. Things were getting better.</p><p>His thoughts drifted to his own little family. Jace was growing stronger with her powers every day, showing a remarkable skill for it, whilst Laura was the same bright-eyed bundle of joy that she always was. He chuckled to himself, picturing Laura in a miniature version of his bright red showman's jacket. He'd have to ask one of the mutants more skilled at needlework - his gifts lay more in destroying clothing than creating it. </p><p>He returned to his caravan, trying to ignore the silhouette that Warren and Kurt created, perched on the roof of their own caravan and deeply lost in talk. He was certain the two boys thought that they were being subtle, and he didn't have it in him to disillusion them so early on. </p><p>He knocked on the caravan, and the door swung open, little Laura racing out. She threw herself into his arms. He chuckled, tossing her into the air, then smiling at Hank and Jace, leaning in to kiss Hank and ruffle Jace’s hair - growing longer by the day beneath the illusion that she was casting.</p><p>"All good?" Hank asked, and Logan nodded. It was a familiar routine, putting the girls to bed and then curling up beside Hank himself. He was drifting off to sleep when his senses seemed to blare out like an alarm. He sniffed the air and snarled.</p><p>He knew that scent. It meant danger.</p><p>He carefully extracted himself from beneath Hank's arm, leaving him to dream on as he made his way to the door of the caravan, sniffing the air again.</p><p>The scent was at a distance. Not his brother, luckily, but Stryker. The stink of him lingered, familiar even after so long. Logan felt his claws emerge, and smirked a little as cold, hard satisfaction lodged deep in his gut. He was going to make the monster pay.</p><p>It wasn't hard to trace the scent, not when every instinct he had screamed at him to follow it. Stryker was nearby. Watching them. That knowledge was sickening, but he was ready. He was focused, single-minded on the enemy.</p><p>He dropped down, almost to all fours, following the scent. He could trace him at various points around the edge of the camp and that was sickening, knowing that hours had passed with Stryker stood there, watching his family. Watching them play, watching them work together, and standing in silence. </p><p>Logan had promised all of the mutants here that they were safe from Stryker now. Both those who had suffered at his hands before, but also those that had never known him - he had promised them they would never know the kind of pain he had once only known. It was hard to face this betrayal.</p><p>He thought of Warren, full of hope of a new life. Kurt, breaking away from what Stryker and his animal had done. He thought of Hank, of the pain that he had suffered, of the torture, of what would happen to Laura and Jace if Stryker got the chance to grab them, to control them, to hold them with his disgusting touch. Logan shuddered, not allowing his thoughts to linger on what might happen - on some of the mutants being sold off, and others caged.</p><p>He would find him.</p><p>Stryker was standing in an open clearing, a short distance from the camp, unarmed and smirking. "I was wondering when you were going to make an appearance, Wolverine. That brother of yours, he always had a sense for when I was watching y'all. I thought maybe it'd be passed to you, and here we go, turns out that I was right."</p><p>"You need to leave my family alone," Logan snarled.</p><p>Stryker laughed. "You really got some cheek, my boy, saying that it's your family. I know you stole my son for one of your sick little slideshow acts. And I was gonna cure him, give him a better life..."</p><p>Logan tensed, his claws extending out further.</p><p>"You stab me, boy, and everyone's gonna know what you've done. I left information with a whole load of people, letting them know you took my son and that I was coming to challenge you. And I don't come back? Then people are gonna ask questions. And you'll end up back in a cage like you belong."</p><p>"I'm not my brother."</p><p>Stryker looked him up and down and snorted. "Oh, I know that. Your brother wouldn't hesitate. He wouldn't try and take in people, wouldn't pretend to care. He's a monster, and you're an animal."</p><p>"I have control over my life. I won't kill you today." Logan glared, straightening his hands so his claws slipped away. "But if I ever catch you near my people again, I'll kill you, and I won't feel bad for it."</p><p>"You say you're nothing like him, but you are. I know you, Wolverine. You're just itching for the chance to strike out. You let me walk away, and you're going to spend the rest of your life regretting it. Because you've always been an animal, Wolverine. You can try and hide it all you want, wear fancy coats and talk nice, put on shows and play at being a human. But you're an animal. And you always have been."</p><p>"I know," Logan growled, thinking of all the pain the man in front of him had caused, all the pain he would continue to cause. He couldn't help thinking that his community would be far better off if Stryker wasn't around anymore. Stryker remaining alive posed a threat. But if he was telling the truth, then attacking could also be dangerous. "Why are you here?"</p><p>"Because I've come to take back what's mine. My son, and my circus."</p><p>"No." Logan stared at him. "I will never give you a single mutant from my circus. I will kill you before I hand them over."</p><p>"You try and hide it, but you've got that monster within. Go on then. Kill me. Seal the fate of all those you love."</p><p>It was tempting. Logan knew just how easily his claws would slice through the other man, and remove the threat he posed forever.</p><p>***</p><p>Erik watched Mortimer, who was sat awkwardly at the table, his limbs struggling a little to fit in the chair. Nearby, Jean and Scott were reading, and Mortimer was practicing his writing - he was still doing the very fundamentals, but he was learning, and Erik felt a swell of pride. This was what it was for. All the fighting, all the death - making Shaw pay had never been the end goal, not really. It was this. Offering children like Mortimer and Scott and Jean the chance to live happily, without fear. Allowing them to grow up without looking over their shoulder every day, without suffering. Everything he did was working towards that.</p><p>He smiled to himself, before returning to the papers he was reading through - notes from Shaw's research that Azazel had fetched for him. They were sickening, but he drew a kind of comfort from the knowledge that Shaw's monstrosities were in the past. The experiments he detailed with such cold glee would no longer be carried out.</p><p>He registered the metal of Charles's wheeled chair before the other man entered the room, feeling Charles's mind brush against his own. <i>You feel unhappy.</i></p><p>
  <i>Not unhappy. Just reading through the notes, and knowing I could have done more if I had-</i>
</p><p><i>There was nothing you could have done.</i> Charles interrupted his thoughts with a sense of firmness. <i>You did all you could, you rescued Janos, and you ended Shaw. But he was a monster, and you wouldn't have been able to fight him on your own.</i></p><p>That knowledge sunk through into his mind slowly. They had managed to do it because they had worked together. Because rather than living in fear or trying to stride out on his own, his final victory had come when they had stood side by side. He knew that this was the start of something better. Something stronger. The first victory that would lead to many more.</p><p>Charles approached him, wrapping a hand around Erik's own, brushing gently across the scar. <i>You did so well.</i></p><p>Erik allowed himself to enjoy the praise, knowing the truth of it - he had done well. He had killed the monster, slain the nightmare. </p><p>It was a start.</p><p>Charles's touch helped soothe away some of the ever constant ache from how his hand had warped, holding him close, reassuring him. He glanced over towards him, seeing Charles watching the children with a thoughtful expression on his face. <i>Charles?</i></p><p>"Nothing," Charles spoke out loud, <i>We'll talk later.</i> </p><p>Erik nodded, and moved to see how Mortimer was getting on, helping him to grasp a pen correctly, watching as he carefully traced out the forms of letters. He felt so much affection for the boy, for all of the children. "You're getting a lot better."</p><p>"I'm sorry I ain't faster, Mistah Erik."</p><p>"You're going at the right speed for you," Erik reassured, and Mortimer grinned, his eyes shining. Erik knew the boy trusted him, and was slowly learning to accept that fact. He reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "Good work."</p><p>That evening, he made his way to Charles's study. He'd helped Mortimer read a bedtime story - the boy was really too old for such things, but he'd been devoid of affection for so long that Erik found it easy to give in and provide him with it, to be rewarded by bright smiles and eager attempts to fumble through the words. </p><p>He knocked, and felt Charles's mind brush his own in greeting. He used his powers to open the door, stepping inside and walking over to where Charles had stopped - he was by the fire, a book on his lap, but he wasn't reading. Instead, he was gazing into the flames.</p><p>It took Erik a moment before he approached, using his ability to call over a chair so that he and Charles could sit side by side. </p><p>Charles's hand reached out for his own, and he took a few deep breaths before he started to speak. "Thank you for coming, Erik."</p><p>"I like spending time with you. And I think..." Erik leaned in, brushing his lips against Charles's cheek. "I think we are at the start of a long and profitable partnership, one that will make both of us blissfully happy."</p><p>"I hope you are right," Charles agreed. "I'd like that a great deal."</p><p>"But you aren't happy now, are you?" Erik asked, watching Charles's expression closely. "What's bothering you?" He wondered if Charles was struggling with the fact that he had killed, that he had regrets. Erik didn't have regrets, but it was easy for him, simple. Maybe it was more complicated for Charles.</p><p>"Just remembering," Charles answered. "I killed him. And I had told myself, a long time ago, that I wouldn't kill again. That... that I was better than that. And it was easier, to hide myself in my studies and allow Logan to be the one to get his hands bloody. But I killed again, and now I have to work out where I stand."</p><p>"You killed before?" Erik asked, trying to square the man in front of him with the idea he held of a murderer. Charles was kind and caring and gentle. He loved endlessly. There was no brutality there.</p><p>"Your thoughts are very flattering, my friend," Charles spoke softly. "I did. My stepfather... I had lost my mother to drink and the medicines she dosed herself with, and I had ended up in a chair - a harsh beating, followed by infection setting in, and only my determination not to die kept me alive. I survived, I grew strong, but my legs were no longer usable. I retain the faintest sensation, and even that is patchy."</p><p>"I don't think anyone could blame you for killing someone who harmed you."</p><p>"Erik..." Charles sighed. "Your power allows you to use a knife. To use some metal, and take that control. Mine has to operate through others. It was... it was an accident. I was furious with my stepfather for his brutality, for his sheer callousness at my mother's death... there had been a time I held her dear, and I couldn't stand to think of her unmissed. Well, my stepbrother was in a foul mood. Cain is... not a pleasant man, never has been. But he was strong. It was easy to direct his anger." Charles looked down. "I took the memory. He didn't know what he had done, and yet... I knew. The blame fell on me. Perhaps if I had been calmer, perhaps..."</p><p>"Perhaps it is time to stop blaming yourself." Erik reached out, taking both of Charles's hands in his own and guiding him to look into his eyes. "You do not blame me for freeing the world of my monster. You should extend the same courtesy to yourself, treat yourself with the kindness that you would show others..." He brushed his lips against Charles's own. <i>You survived so that we could meet. Let that be enough.</i> He felt Charles's lips twist into a smile, and Charles yawned dramatically. </p><p>"Perhaps it is time for us to go to bed," Charles murmured. Erik nodded consideringly.</p><p>"I should hate to leave your company so soon."</p><p>"Then perhaps we shall go together? I have a large bed, and should be grateful for the reassurance..." Beneath his easy smile was the truth of his words, and Erik wondered how long Charles had been haunted by all that had happened, how long he had blamed himself for things that were not his fault and yet felt as if they were. </p><p>Charles smiled at him, leaning close for an easy kiss. Erik obliged before standing, as Charles put his book away and began to head towards his room. He used his power to open the door, feeling a frisson of delight shoot through Charles at that simple action.</p><p>"You are a remarkable man, Erik. I have decided that I shall ensure you do not doubt that for a moment." Charles pronounced it easily, a fond smile on his lips. Erik leaned in to kiss that smile away, holding Charles close, and reaching to release the buttons of his shirt. </p><p>He felt secure. He couldn't truly remember his previous homes. But he had this one now, and as he captured Charles's lips in another kiss, that was enough.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan knew that Stryker was goading him, trying to fool him into lashing out, and in doing so sealing the fate of all his mutants. Knowing that should have been sufficient to keep him calm, to mean that he stayed in control. But he knew he was losing the fight. The animal within him, the part that couldn't be reasoned with, cried out for him to destroy the threat, to tear him to shreds so he could no longer pose a danger to his family.</p><p>Logan recognised it was a trap. The Wolverine was afraid of its tormentor, driven by the primal urge to protect its family. His bones itched, his claws longing to sink into someone. He knew he was snarling. Knew that he had wandered into a trap. But he didn't know how to get out of it. He sunk into a crouch, sniffing at the air, ready to attack if the chance arose.</p><p>He smelled someone approach, and when he identified who it was he felt panic rise in his chest. Jace was coming.</p><p>His heart raced. He wasn't going to let this man hurt her, but at the same time he couldn't risk his little girl getting hurt. He didn't want her to see what was coming.</p><p>Stryker's face split in a sickening smile. "There you are, my boy..."</p><p>"Papa?" Jace asked, and she sounded so broken and afraid. Logan wondered if this was what she wanted - he couldn't imagine Kurt would accept it, but he couldn't keep her a prisoner. He turned to face her and saw she was looking up at him, her mismatched eyes full of tears. "Papa, are you okay?"</p><p>"I'm fine, princess," he promised, making his way to her, sweeping her behind him in case Stryker tried to attack. "Go back to Hank and the others."</p><p>"But Papa..." Her tiny hand reached for his, squeezing tightly. "I want to help."</p><p>"Sweetheart, this is for grownups." He ruffled her hair.</p><p>"Leave my boy alone." Stryker glared, and Logan could tell the tension. He could smell the terror flying from his dear little girl, and he couldn't stand for it.</p><p>"She ain't your boy," Logan told him coldly, standing straighter, puffing out his chest "You lost the right to be her parent when you hated her for what she is."</p><p>"Papa's my family now," Jace piped up from behind him.</p><p>"You think he can keep you freaks safe?" Stryker asked, and Logan snarled, his teeth bared. A smug smile fixed itself on Stryker's face - he knew he'd pushed too far, knew that Logan was going to lash out. He knew that was going to mean the end of him, and he didn't care about it. Logan could recognise that he was trapped - either they chased Stryker off and he came back with more, or he gave in to the urge to kill the other man, and left the circus stained in blood. Either way, people were coming for everyone that he held dear, and he couldn't stand it.</p><p>"Papa..." Jace whispered, her hand clutching his tighter. "Do you love me?"</p><p>"Course I do, princess," he answered without looking away from the man in front of them - Stryker was the danger. He had to be on top of things.</p><p>She hummed softly, and he could feel her trembling against him. He wanted to wrap her in blankets and make it better, but he couldn't do that yet. He had to defend her first of all, before he could comfort her, before he could reassure her that the nightmare was over. He had to end it.</p><p>Stryker frowned and looked around, his gaze seeming to look straight through Logan. "Where did you run to, you animal?" the other man shouted. "You can't hide forever."</p><p>Jace had her eyes screwed tightly shut, panting with effort. Logan picked her up, cradling her close and moving her away. Stryker kept shouting, kept searching for them, but that didn't matter, not when his little girl was shaking in his arms. He carried her a safe distance away. </p><p>"It's okay. He can't see us now," Logan told her, as gently as he could.</p><p>He felt her relax in his arms, her body going limp as she fell back against him. There was a pause for a few moments before she spoke. </p><p>"He won't find us any more."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>"I used to… to hide. From Creed, because he scared me. And I'd try to hide with Kurt... and... and he won't... he won't find us any more. He'll look and he'll be scared and he won't..." She sniffled, and Logan ran one of his hands across her back, trying to reassure her.</p><p>"Why didn't he love me?" Jace whispered, and Logan felt his heart twist, mixed with anger at the man. Jace was a sweet child, caring, and full of love. And he had treated her so poorly. Logan didn't regret not stabbing the other man though - there were more important things in life than revenge. </p><p>"It's his loss, princess. He don't realise what an amazing girl you are, an' that's on him. Don't you ever let him worry you. We're your family, and we love you. We're going to keep you safe."</p><p>"Thank you..." Jace whispered, her voice sounding painfully small. Logan felt his heart twist, and he leaned down to give his little girl another hug.</p><p>"It's okay, sweetheart. Come on. Time to go home."</p><p>"Thank you." She pressed her face against him, and he shushed her gently, smiling as he spotted Warren hovering above the camp. "Hey, look..."</p><p>Jace looked up, her eyes shining with delight as she watched Warren soar, and Logan felt a sense of right settle. He couldn't be sure her illusion would hold, but Jace had reminded him of the most important thing - when they were pushed to the edge, what mattered was that they were a family. None of them had to deal with nightmares from their past alone, and that included him. He'd been afraid for long enough. He didn't need to continue.</p><p>"Do you want to see what we've got planned for tonight's show?" Logan asked. "We can write out the programme..."</p><p>"Can I help with the show?" Jace asked, and Logan nodded, already thinking of the kind of imagery that the little girl could conjure. He was sure it was going to be truly beautiful. He was sure it was going to help swell their audience further. More than that though, it would give Jace a chance to appear before a crowd and find her own ways to succeed. He liked that idea. He was already proud of her, but she needed to work out how she could be proud of herself.</p><p> </p><p>That evening, he helped her to get ready, advising as she fretted over what colour dress to project, as Laura ran through her own part - jumping from a pre-split log, showing off her claws.</p><p>Hank was never much one for performing. He would do some set-changes and appear between scenes, and handle the heavy lifting, but he didn't love being centre stage, didn't want everyone's attention on him. Logan understood that. But it was good to see that Hank's hesitation wasn't shared by either of their daughters.</p><p>"Will you watch tonight?" Jace asked Hank curiously, as Laura swung off of one of his arms.</p><p>"Of course." Hank smiled down at her, and Logan was sure that Jace was almost falling over with how happy she was to hear that. He grinned over his daughter's head at Hank, and Hank smiled back at him. Logan remembered a time when the thought of Hank choosing to be in public was unimaginable. They'd come a long way since then.</p><p>He pulled on his coat, and grinned at his family. "Come on. It's show time."</p><p>Logan always enjoyed putting on a show, now that it was under his own will. He chose to perform, and he loved doing it, showing the world just what mutants could do. He knew that the humans watching weren't afraid or disgusted by what they saw - they were in awe of it.</p><p>It was a good feeling. Better, knowing that for now at least they were safe from Stryker, and yet at the same time there was the certainty in his heart that when that monster did resurface, he wouldn't face it alone.</p><p>Laura was as always a confident star of the ring, doing exaggerated bows and curtseys, climbing up and letting Kurt drop her in his trapeze act, the boy teleporting down to catch her again. </p><p>Warren wasn't ready to fly yet - he was beginning to recover his strength, but the muscles were wasted and Logan refused to risk injury to one of his. But Warren showed off his wings. Logan could tell the pride and fear that action caused - he'd always been taught that his wings were shameful, and risking showing them to the world took a lot of bravery. Logan saw the looks that passed between Warren and Kurt, and smiled. They were good kids. They'd do alright by each other.</p><p>Jace's illusions weren't very complex, given what she had managed the night he'd first brought her to the circus. At that point, she had closed all his other senses down to the reality of the world, had him believe instead in her own views. Today's performance was far simpler, just flashes of sparkles, showers of birds or coloured lights. But the audience seemed enthralled, and at the end she managed to stay standing.</p><p>The next act was Laura, running onto the stage, and his senses spiked in warning, because something about what he could see was wrong. Before he could react, another Laura came running from the other direction, the two children gripping each other and embracing before one of the girls morphed into a woman, blue scales shifting and rippling across her skin, dressed in a plain white dress that only highlighted her unusual appearance. Raven. She turned towards him and winked, and Logan answered with a half-hearted snarl, feeling the animal part of his mind calm a little. It was still jumpy, after everything that had happened. But he knew the nature of Raven's gift. </p><p>Raven was a natural talent, not just because of her gift, but because she had a showmanship about it that reminded Logan of the best performers he'd seen. She had a huge smile on her face as her and Laura curtseyed. Logan grinned at her, clapping himself.</p><p>***</p><p>Charles woke slowly to the sensation of another body in the bed beside his own, a proprietary arm flung across his chest, a face pressed against his shoulder. He opened his eyes gradually, trying to ensure he didn't disturb the figure in his arms, taking in the soft curl of the hair on top of Erik’s head, the weight of his body, the way that old scars seemed to shine white in the firelight, criss-crossing his body with paths that Charles longed to run his fingers along. And yet, it was not time for such delights. They had to be postponed until Erik was once more fully among the living.</p><p>A strand of hair stuck out at a strange angle, and Charles realised he was enthralled by it, delighted to see it. In his arms, Erik was showing a vulnerability that he normally hid from the world. Charles wasn't able to free his arms from Erik's grip and fix that stray curl. But he held him close, allowing himself to drift - not quite asleep, but at peace with the world.</p><p>Time passed. An unknown length of it, untrackable when all that mattered was the man curled against him. He felt Jean's mind brush his own, little golden thoughts sparking at the edge of his consciousness. <i>Papa, are you joining us for breakfast today?</i></p><p>
  <i>Not today, dearest. Mister Lehnsherr and I have much to discuss. But we will talk with you at lunch.</i>
</p><p><i>Yes, Papa.</i> Those golden thoughts receded, and once more he and Erik were alone. Charles slowly became aware of Erik's smile, the way the other man was laying still, but with a playful smirk against his lips. He could feel the thoughts behind that smile picking up pace as Erik woke up, registered where he was, and knew he was safe. Charles didn't try to project, but hoped the warmth of his body conveyed that Erik was somewhere he would be protected.</p><p>For a moment every fragment of metal within the room seemed to light up like a beacon to their tangled awarenesses, Erik ensuring that he would be able to fight if the need arose, but that flare was brief. It receded, and in its place was a sense of contentment.</p><p>Erik's eyes opened, and he gazed at Charles with an affection that was almost startling - for all that Erik was more than ready to kill, should the need arise, when there was no necessity for violence the other man was gentle and careful in all that he did. Charles hoped he would never destroy that sheer trust.</p><p>"You won't," Erik spoke out loud, disturbing the peace that had settled over them. "I can hear you worrying. But you won't, whatever it is that you are concerned about - you won't do it. Or if you do, it won't be the disaster you imagine, and we shall find a solution."</p><p>"So confident," Charles answered with a teasing smile, leaning in for a kiss, his fingers running up Erik's shoulders, caressing the lines of old scars that told of a tough life. One that Erik had battled through, that he had survived, and for that the scars were beautiful. They told the story of Erik's fight, his determination, his bravery.</p><p>"You don't mind them?" Erik asked, a little hesitant. "I can wear a shirt to bed if you-"</p><p>"Never," Charles cut him short, horrified at the thought of losing the expanse of tanned flesh before him. "I am sorry that they are signs of pain you endured, that you should never have faced. But your scars are beautiful. You are beautiful, Erik, and I should like very much to look as much as it is possible to look."</p><p>"You ask very sweetly," Erik laughed, but he stretched out, and Charles took his time mapping the other's body, covering the map of him with kisses and touches and tenderness, working out each part of him, learning him and all of the precious signs that he was in pleasure, memorising the look on Erik's face as he cried out in delight and bliss.</p><p>Afterwards, Charles wiped his hand clean on a handkerchief, encouraging Erik to nuzzle up against his throat the way he could see Erik longed to, fingertips continuing to explore the scars on the other man's broad shoulders.</p><p>"May I?" Erik asked, gesturing towards Charles's own lap, reaching towards him at a nod. Charles was not unfamiliar with the experience of his own touch, although at points he had somewhat found his body unresponsive, yet no prior experience could prepare him for the knowledge that it was Erik who was bringing him such delight, and doing so eagerly, with practiced touch. He found release, pulling Erik closer for more kisses, more embraces, more safety. </p><p>Erik found his own old scars, touching them with caution, as though Charles was a wounded animal. Charles smiled softly. "You don't need to be afraid. They're part of me. Just as yours are part of you."</p><p>"You.... really don't hate them, do you?"</p><p>"No. Not my scars, which show what I have survived. And not yours, which are beautiful. You are beautiful Erik, even if you don't realise that." </p><p>At those words, Erik leaned in to claim his lips.</p><p>For a little longer, the world faded to just the two of them.</p><p>It was with a great deal of reluctance that Charles pulled away, stretching and stealing one final kiss. "I believe that the children wish to see us for lunch."</p><p>Erik groaned a little, but nodded, stretching his arms up and rolling his shoulders. Charles permitted himself a moment longer to stare before he transferred into his chair and went to prepare for the day, a fond smile on his lips. It was near midday, and he would never normally have been so lazy, but it had been worth it this once. He felt young, full of love and joy and hope, and he tucked those emotions against his heart to fortify him on days when not all went as he wished.</p><p>He knew the love he felt for Erik would be a well he could draw upon when he required strength, in coming weeks and months, and if all went well, then for years and years ahead. </p><p>Erik led the way down to the dining room, smiling at Mortimer when the boy dropped down from the ceiling to embrace him. Mortimer was beaming, and Erik looked back with fondness.</p><p>The sheer care the two of them showed each other helped Charles realise the folly of his past ideas, the way he had acted as though mutants were something to be hidden. There was no way he could deny that the best place for Mortimer was with Erik. Not all mutants would choose to work for Logan, and he would have to find roles for those. And yet that was a problem for another day. For now, his focus was on his children and their lunch.</p><p>***</p><p>Mystique was buzzing with excitement after her performance, energy racing through her body as she let herself into the tent that Irene had set up. She immediately went to the other woman's embrace. "Well?"</p><p>"Just as perfect as I saw," Irene answered. "I knew that you would do well."</p><p>"But you didn't tell me?"</p><p>"I saw no need to. You would do wonderfully with or without my encouragement." Irene leaned up for a kiss. "And anyway, I didn't want you to think you did well because it was destiny. I wanted you to know you performed well because you are talented."</p><p>"I'm different. That's what they are paying to see."</p><p>"If that was all they wanted, they would go to one of the places that keep mutants in cages. Yet some here would never frequent those other ones. No, dear. You are attracting an audience for your talent, not just your difference. And most of them do not believe me gifted at all, but suppose I am a storyteller who can at least provide them with some joy."</p><p>"And how is it?"</p><p>"Good. I mostly say what they wish to hear, but there are times... times when I can alter fates. Nothing much. Just ending a pain that would otherwise have been festering, or comforting after a loss. There was one woman. Her and her brother fought, and for many years he was out of her life. But they gained the chance to reunite. I told her that she should go and visit him, to listen and to state her views, and hope that they should find some common ground after all that had happened."</p><p>"I see." Mystique raised an eyebrow. "And this young woman you speak so highly of. She wouldn't happen to be blue by any chance?"</p><p>"I'm blind, dearest," Irene answered, a teasing smirk settled on her lips. "But I can tell you, she is beautiful. And that it would bring her a great deal more happiness than she realises if she allowed old wounds to close."</p><p>"You really think I should talk to him?" Raven asked. She felt uncertain, but less likely to simply refuse than she would have a few short days ago. The gifted man her brother had taken under his wing really did seem to have brought forth a change in him. She didn't know yet if it would be a good change or a bad one, and yet she had to hope.</p><p>"I do. Not for any vast reason. But you are working towards the same goals, and he has had a degree of a change of heart. Talking to him would offer up opportunities for you both... but more than that, it would make you happy." Irene reached out, seizing one of Mystique's hands in her own. "No devastating pain will occur if you choose to live your life without him. And if that is the path you wish... I will understand. But I think you would be happier if you allowed yourself to meet with him."</p><p>"I'll talk to him," Mystique allowed herself to concede. "But if he isn't interested in what I have to say-"</p><p>"He will be."</p><p>"Is that a vision or a reassurance?" Mystique asked, only to get another enigmatic smile in response. She shook her head fondly. "Alright. I'll talk to Logan, make sure I won't leave him in the lurch, and will meet my brother for afternoon tea. On two conditions. One, that I can appear in my true form. And the second, that you can come with me."</p><p>"I should like that a great deal," Irene answered, certain as always. Raven leaned in to kiss her, feeling a soft flare of jealousy in a way. She knew that Irene's gift came with a vast number of hardships, and yet there were times when it seemed it would serve as a reassurance, when it provided the answers that Raven was without. Still, she would never change Irene, not in any way. She allowed herself a final embrace before she headed off to find Logan, and put into motion the steps needed to meet her brother.</p><p>The following day, she altered her appearance to look like the young lady she had once been forced to be, and picked Irene the most suitable dress they had available - a couple of years out of fashion, but beautiful and flattering to her figure. Ready, she headed to meet with her brother.</p><p>Azazel was kind enough to take them the majority of the way there, and she walked the final distance to the home she believed she had left for good with Irene's hand a reassuring presence at her arm. She told herself with as much firmness as she could manage that she could face whatever lay ahead, without fear or trepidation. She wasn't sure of the truth of that, but she had to hope. </p><p>She remembered Kurt Marko, the monster that had ruled the house when they were young. Remembered how desperately Charles had asked her to live a lie. Remembered Cain's fists, and the day she had left, driven away in search of an identity. She felt that she had that identity now. She knew who she was. She knew where she belonged.</p><p>Irene's fingers slid down her arm to her wrist, interlacing with her own. Raven squeezed tightly, thankful for the other woman's silent comfort. It helped make what was to come a little more bearable, left her having a degree of hope that she should survive.</p><p>She wasn't going to live a lie any more. She had told Charles that in her letter, and he had accepted. She would be blue, and face the stares of the servants, the whispers of the grooms and the gossip of the maids. She let herself shift. She braced herself for hatred, even disgust, and told herself she would survive whatever comments were coming for her. Her brother helped mutants, but he banished them, and she doubted those who worked would make her feel welcome.</p><p>And yet when a blonde footman opened the door, he did not hesitate to ask for their coats and wish them a pleasant lunch, seeming more startled by Irene's blindness than her own blue skin.</p><p>After a moment, the youth seemed to recover his wits, showing them through to Charles's private office. Normally, a lady such as Raven would not have been shown to such a masculine room, but her and her brother had never fully stood on ceremony. Not normally, and not now.</p><p>"Your footman seemed not to know how to handle someone that was blind," Raven snapped the moment the footman had left, trying to start off the conversation with anger, so that she could push towards her own victory.</p><p>Charles looked at her, and shook his head. "No, I do believe he does."</p><p>"He looked startled."</p><p>"Until very recently, his brother had to remain blindfolded. Even now, his brother's vision is very poor. I believe what you took as hostility was closer to surprise, perhaps even hope. He is protective of his brother, and seeing the success that your friend enjoys... was possibly a pleasant surprise for him."</p><p>"Oh." Raven swallowed back her anger, feeling a little chastened by Charles's words. Charles always had a way of making you feel that you were foolish, that you had misunderstood the situation. She hated that.</p><p>"It is good to see you, Raven. Why are you here?"</p><p>"I had to see you, after all that had happened... you helped that gifted man, after years of despising mutants."</p><p>"My servant and his brother are both mutants. I have helped mutants, sent them to the circus that Logan provides-"</p><p>"A circus you shun... the blind boy?" Raven asked, frowning.</p><p>"Unfortunately his gift means that if he were to look at something he should destroy it."</p><p>"And you did not send him to the circus."</p><p>"No. I offered him a home here with his brother, where he could relax and learn. I do not believe he would be comfortable in the environment the circus offered. I know you believe I despise your kind, Raven. But I want you to... I need you to know that that has never been the case. I have always wanted you to be happy. You and your kind... I saw what some of you suffered, and I thought I could spare you that." Charles sighed, his gaze meeting her own. She could see his distress at her eyes, but he held her gaze. "I was wrong. And I am sorry."</p><p>There had been years when Raven had dreamed of hearing her brother apologise, convinced such a moment would never occur. And here it was. She swallowed back her tears, and nodded slowly. "You were."</p><p>"I've learned. I won't ask you to forgive me. But I will ask for a second chance. An opportunity to work out how we are. Who we are. Together."</p><p>She could have turned around and thrown that offer in his face. There certainly had been times when she would have liked nothing more than to do that. But she had changed, and she had learned. They both had.</p><p>"Perhaps."</p><p>Charles smiled brightly in response, and she realised how much she had missed that smile.</p><p>"I can see how working together could be useful," Raven conceded reluctantly. "But. I understand why you meet your scientist friends, and why you keep quiet about what you are really doing. But your children deserve to see the circus, Charles, and I want you to watch me perform."</p><p>For a moment, she thought that Charles would refuse. That his pride would come first, that his loyalty to mutants would remain in helping only in the shadows. But then Charles nodded. "I will come. With Erik, and the children. I can't promise all of the children will want to go, but we shall offer the opportunity to them and let them decide."</p><p>Raven looked up at him and saw the truth there, saw that Charles wanted to help. It wasn't a guarantee that all would go according to plan. But Charles was willing to make her that offer.</p><p>It would be churlish to refuse.</p><p>She smiled, holding out her hand, and tried to ignore how Irene was smirking beside her. Charles and his family were going to see her perform.</p><p>It was a start, at least. Charles shook, and she stepped back towards her companion. Irene's hand found her own, and she felt herself relax.</p><p>"You look happy here, Charles."</p><p>"I've found a good life for myself. The only hardship in it is missing you, and now with the possibility of reunion… I find myself very happy indeed." Charles's mind reached out, and she felt it brush her own. For years, he had stayed away, and she certainly couldn't contemplate their thoughts being entwined the way they had been in childhood. But she allowed that presence for a few moments longer, and was answered by Charles's beaming smile.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Erik had thought, by the serious expression Charles wore as he wheeled into the room, that whatever he had to say was serious. Charles looked at him and shook his head lightly.</p><p>"Nothing you need worry yourself over."</p><p>"But you are worried," Erik pointed out, frowning a little. "Whatever it is, tell me. Let me help." </p><p>"Nothing... it's foolish." Charles swallowed. "Raven has said it would mean a lot to her, if we were to go to the circus and watch her perform. I said that you would accompany me, but obviously if you would rather not... no one would blame you if you chose-"</p><p>"I should go anywhere with you, Charles. And you approve of Logan. You help him. Why are you so reluctant to see his work?"</p><p>"Because it is what I always feared for myself," Charles answered, sighing softly. "I had hoped that... well, I chose to believe that Logan did what was necessary, and that was the extent to which I had to concern myself. But going and seeing them perform - that feels far more intimate. I can't just say I am an observer, or.... I know he takes care of them. But I always wished for my own gift to be hidden, feared what it would mean to be exposed. Seeing someone who displays their gift openly... frightens me, in a way."</p><p>"You don't need to be afraid." Erik sent Charles a calming wave of trust through the link between them. "I will be at your side."</p><p>"That is a greater comfort than you could know," Charles answered, reaching out with his own thoughts. Erik easily crossed the distance between them, settling his weight on Charles's lap and permitting his lips to brush Charles's own, enjoying the delight that spread through him at the simple touch. </p><p>"The children will be glad to visit the circus, I am sure."</p><p>"And Mortimer?" Charles asked. "I know he was unhappy there." </p><p>"He was unhappy," Erik said gently. "Because it was not the life he desired. That was all. He would be perfectly happy to spend a short amount of time there and to see his friends, as long as we do not leave him there afterwards. I have no intent to do such a thing, and nor do you, I believe."</p><p>"Never," Charles acknowledged. "I suppose I should gather them." He closed his eyes, and Erik moved off of Charles's lap, ensuring he looked appropriately calm and decorous when the children arrived. Jean came first, practically skipping, the two boys following in her wake.</p><p>Charles looked at her and nodded. "Jean, you know you're meant to stay out of our thoughts."</p><p>"I wasn't in your thoughts, Papa! I heard the pretty blue lady say to her friend that she hadn't thought you would agree." Jean looked up at her adoptive father with wide eyes.</p><p>"I apologise for falsely accusing you," Charles said with a smile. "No, you were right. We have been invited to see a show at Mister Logan's circus." </p><p>Erik watched Mortimer's expression closely. He was fairly sure he had been right in assuming the boy would want to go, but he wanted to be ready to step in if necessary. Mortimer nodded after a moment, then swallowed. "Mistah Charles, can I go an' see Kurt fer a bit after? I wanna tell him how happy I am."</p><p>"Yes, Mortimer. Of course. And you are always welcome to visit your friends. Jean and Scott are rather too young to go on such adventures unsupervised, but I should not wish to forbid you from your friends." </p><p>Erik looked Charles in the eye and tried to convey to him how very proud he was of all Charles had achieved. Charles's answering smile was fragile, but real. Once the children had been dispersed, Erik reached out and squeezed Charles's hand. "What's worrying you?"</p><p>"I can't help thinking that maybe something will go wrong. Or maybe... My stepfather always said that mutants were freaks. Sometimes I worry that all I have done is prove him right."</p><p>"I don't think that you've done that. I think you've helped people find the right path for them, and I don't think that is something to be ashamed of," Erik answered carefully. "Maybe to humans we're freaks. But why should we wish to be anything else? You've given them a home, and that matters more than simple labels."</p><p>"I don't deserve you," Charles answered with a soft smile, pulling Erik down for a kiss. "Perhaps tomorrow evening we can go."</p><p>"Why not tonight? Less chance for you to worry yourself sick."</p><p>Charles hesitated, then nodded and closed his eyes. "I'll contact Azazel."</p><p>"I'll get the children," Erik promised, going to gather up the others in the household. He could feel the way the younger children were almost bouncing with excitement, whilst Mortimer seemed enthusiastic. Alex and Darwin chose to accompany them, and so it was a complete complement of the household that teleported over to the fields where the tent was set up. Erik concentrated, using his powers to lift Charles's chair a fraction off the ground, floating it along so that he didn't need to worry about getting stuck in the sodden patches of ground.</p><p>Jean skipped along beside them, floating a pebble in front of her using her telekinesis. Scott was hanging back with his brother, and Mortimer had disappeared to see some of the circus stars that he knew well, leaving him and Charles to explore in relative peace.</p><p>Erik was no stranger to physical mutation. He had seen all kinds. But what he was used to seeing was physical mutation linking to pain, the shape of individuals who havd been tortured for research, had been brutalised and broken. He wasn't used to witnessing the sheer joy that the mutants here showed, and it took his breath away.</p><p>They hadn't got far into the camp before Logan strode over, a look of hostility in his eyes which gave way to friendship when he confirmed their identities with a sniff.</p><p>"You know, all these years I asked you to come, bub, and it just takes one word from Mystique and you come running." </p><p>Charles shrugged his shoulders, and Logan grinned and held out his hand. "It's good to have you here, Charles. Let me give you both the tour, we got a bit of time before the show starts." He paused, then turned to Jean. "Why don't you and your friend go and play with my girls?"</p><p>"Thank you, Mister Logan!" Jean squealed, grabbing Scott's hand again and dragging him off.</p><p>Charles smiled fondly after them. "They're doing well."</p><p>"That's because of you, Chuck. Whether they know it or not, the people here owe you their lives."</p><p>"I'm going to do more to help now-"</p><p>"I don't doubt it," Logan interrupted. "And that's important. But you're not here for work tonight. You're here to have fun, and I want to make sure that happens. That sound good to you?"</p><p>There was a pause, and Erik wondered if Charles was going to turn down the offer of fun. But then Charles smiled and nodded.</p><p>"Sounds really good. Thank you."</p><p>Logan gave an overexaggerated bow, then started to show them around. </p><p>Erik couldn't help noticing how many faces he recognised. A few from his time as a prisoner in the circus, but many others that he had helped escape from laboratories or private collectors, had let out into the world. And they had come here, in the end. They had found a home. Erik felt a sense of comfort settle in his chest at that thought.</p><p>He might not have known who Charles was, might have despised him when they had first met. And yet the two of them had been working hand in hand - helping mutants. </p><p>As Logan continued his tour, Charles seemed to relax as whatever had frightened him failed to materialise. Erik's attention was necessarily on keeping Charles's chair hovering a short distance from the ground, so that it just skimmed the surface, but the change in Charles's demeanour was obvious. By the time they reached the big top itself, Charles seemed almost a different man, his earlier concerns replaced with relief. </p><p>"Your group's got pride of place," Logan reassured, showing them to seats at the side of the ring, at the end of a row. "After all these years we finally got you here. Can't have you missing a moment of it."</p><p>Erik grinned in response, then smiled to see the younger children returning, Jean and Scott accompanied by two young girls.</p><p>Charles's hand reached for his own, and he squeezed back.</p><p>***</p><p>Charles had been uncertain about the circus, even as he realised he had to agree for Raven's sake. It wasn't from a lack of trust towards Logan - he had no doubt that the other man did all he could for those in his care. Instead, the concern was simply that he would be intruding, setting himself somewhere that he didn't belong. That somehow his presence would destroy the order of things.</p><p>Perhaps a little part of him was still that scared boy that had been forced to watch and smile as he witnessed Erik's torture. </p><p>But he was careful to hide such thoughts, when Jean was projecting such a sense of contentment, and Scott was hopeful, and Erik felt more at peace than he normally did - the only time he seemed less concerned was when the two of them were on their own. This was his family, all of them, and Charles owed it to them to at least try and handle what was happening.</p><p>As they continued through the circus, some of that fear faded away. The people here were happy. They didn't just look happy - Charles knew more than most that appearances could deceive. But they were happy. There was a sense of home and family here, much like the one he tried to cultivate in the manor, in a place which had once been a hollow shell.</p><p>Erik kept him moving forwards utterly flawlessly, and as they approached the top he reached out for his daughter's mind, asking for her to join them. She came skipping along, Scott trailing after her in almost puppy-dog like sincerity. Logan's daughter - Logan's daughters - were close by.</p><p>Jean was doing well with her telekinesis, he noticed, admiring the way she seemed to weave a pebble between her feet and then up to her hand. He sent a feeling of approval towards her, and she turned and looked at him with a wide brilliant grin.</p><p>He smiled back, heart full of pride in her, in all that his family could achieve. He slotted into the space that had been left for him, glad that Logan hadn't chosen to position him separate from the rest of his family. </p><p>Erik grinned at Jean. "Let's see if we can get some peanuts before the show starts."</p><p>"I can get some!" Laura insisted, darting off. Jean smiled, settling down in between Charles and Erik. Scott was sitting between his brother and Darwin, and Mortimer was between Erik and Alex, a shy expression on his face. Erik squeezed the boy's shoulder. </p><p>"You okay?"</p><p>"Yeah. I just... ain't ever expected t' see it from this side," Mortimer answered, before he curled into Erik's embrace. Laura returned with a bag of peanuts, and Charles took a handful, resting them on his lap so that he could pick at them during the show. He tried to remind himself that this was good. </p><p>Then, the show began.</p><p>Charles had known, of course, that Logan was a performer. That he was able to entertain. And yet there was something very different between rationally knowing that fact and watching Logan put on a show, throwing himself out to the applause of the crowd, making them laugh and whoop and holler, all fascinated by what was on display. And it was fascination - he realised that. Regardless of what the audience normally thought of mutants, within this space, within the show, they saw them as miracles.</p><p>They were miracles. A spectacle of colour blurred across the stage, and Charles found himself watching with awe. There were some performers he recognised - either from Logan's descriptions or the paperwork he had read about rescues, or else seen in Erik's memories. A lot of them had been granted a second chance here - and yet they weren't the terrified prisoners they were in Erik's memories. </p><p>They were stars.</p><p>It was beautiful, hypnotising, watching the ease with which Kurt threw himself from beam to beam, using the scaffolding of the big top itself as part of his act, saving his teleportation for the grand finale. Seeing Azazel make use of his appearance, backed up by whirlwinds conjured by another man - the one Erik had saved. Watching a young woman with dragonfly wings lift into the air, before plunging back into the arms of a diamond-skinned woman.</p><p>Charles frowned, looking at the woman more closely, and was almost unsurprised to have his suspicions confirmed. The diamond-skinned woman was none other than Lady Frost, he was sure of it. </p><p>He glared, and then once she had disappeared from the stage he felt her presence in his mind. </p><p>
  <i>You shouldn't look so surprised, Darling. I need my own little entertainments. And Logan is good enough to appreciate my work.</i>
</p><p><i>Why would you do this?</i> Charles asked, surprised. <i>You're risking everything.</i></p><p><i>I am more than capable of creating my own alibis if the need arises,</i> she answered firmly. <i>And dearest Christian is always willing to say I was with him. No, it is just that I enjoy it.</i></p><p>Before Charles could construct an argument, her mind changed, becoming impenetrable to Charles's gift. Charles couldn't help but feel that that was cheating in a way. </p><p><i>And sugar?</i> her voice interrupted his thoughts. <i>The threat of alibis isn't limited to humans. Should you try and use this against me-</i></p><p><i>I know, Emma. I won't.</i> Charles calmed her as best as he could, startled by the wave of fondness through him at the idea of Emma finding this escape. He knew it was risky, but he also knew that she deserved her joy wherever she could find it, and she was smart enough to hide it well. He saw a ripple of movement through the crowd, all eager for their next performer. </p><p>A woman stepped forwards, dressed in black, a figure--hugging outfit not unlike those which were worn by strongmen. For a few moments she demonstrated her strength. And then she looked out over the crowd, her gaze settling on Charles, and winked.</p><p>The next thing he knew, she was backflipping through the air, her visage changing from one moment to the next. He found himself cheering, and he knew he wasn't the only one. Mystique stopped, turning to her blue form and bowing deeply, before moving onto the next part of her act.</p><p>Charles couldn't help noticing how very comfortable she looked within her own skin, couldn't help remembering that he had tried to take it away from her. He didn't blame his younger self though. If that Raven had been discovered, she wouldn't have been there today to perform. At the time, hiding had been best for her. It just wasn't the best any more now.</p><p>Raven wasn't that scared little girl any more. She'd grown into a beautiful, talented young woman who was drawing cheers of appreciation from the crowd.</p><p>She had found her home, and it wasn't with him. That wasn't always easy to accept, but he knew in his heart it was the truth. For now though, he pushed such thoughts aside and focused simply on the skill with which she moved. Charles wasn't sure if he would have been ready to watch the performances before. But he was now.</p><p>Erik leaned over, his head brushing Charles's shoulder, and Charles risked brushing a kiss against Erik's hair, daring the world to judge. He was ready to fight for what was his.</p><p>But now wasn't a time for fighting. He stared in awe as Raven jumped from one of the two highest poles, heading straight to the ground, only to be caught by Azazel, who placed her safely then teleported away.</p><p>She was doing well. All of them were. When the performances had finished, Charles was yelping and whooping with the same level of delight as the rest of the crowd. </p><p>Slowly, the humans filtered away, and Erik stayed close. Jean rushed off to play with more mutants, and Charles waited. He didn't have to wait for long until the spitting image of Lady Frost approached. If it hadn't been for his sister's amused thoughts, he would have been fooled.</p><p>"What did you think, Xavier?"</p><p>"I thought, Raven, that you were spectacular. More than that, you were beautiful. You looked... you looked so happy to perform."</p><p>"I am happy, Charles. I know this isn't the life you wanted for me."</p><p>"What mattered to me was you being happy and safe, Raven. That's all I've ever wanted for you. If you have that now, then I am content."</p><p>She looked him in the eye. Whatever she saw there made her smile, and she nodded. "I have it now, Charles." She reached out, slipping into her blue form between one breath and the next, and throwing her arms around his shoulders, sliding into his lap and clinging to him the way she had when they were children. He held her in return, clutching her to him.</p><p>She wasn't alone, and nor was he. They didn't have to be afraid any more. </p><p>"Thank you for inviting me tonight, Raven. It was amazing to see you perform."</p><p>"Thank you for coming," Raven answered, affection shining in her eyes. "Irene wasn't sure if you'd come, but I was."</p><p>"You never doubted me?"</p><p>"Not over this." She shrugged. "I knew I wanted to make this work, and I knew that if you felt the same, you would be here. And here you are."</p><p>"Here I am," he agreed, turning to the rest of his family. So what did you think?"</p><p>"I liked the fliers best!" Scott answered with a bright smile. "They're so amazing."</p><p>Mortimer nodded, curled in against Erik's side. Erik murmured in the boy's ear, and he slipped away once more. Mortimer took Scott's hand, and Alex and Darwin followed. It left just the three of them. Part of Charles was still braced for anger, for his sister's fury or hatred. Instead, she smiled at him fondly.</p><p>"It was good to show you what I can do."</p><p>"You're incredible, Raven. You always have been, and I've always been proud of you, even when you didn't know that."</p><p>Raven nodded, looking up at him, examining his face. She clearly saw whatever answer she was looking for in his eyes, because after a few moments she nodded. "We can talk. I can visit sometimes, if I'm not performing. And we can talk. I'm not saying things will go back to how they were."</p><p>"Talking is all I want," Charles promised. They could build on from there. What mattered was that it was a start, after so long with nothing. At this point, the chance of rebuilding seemed possible. </p><p>She embraced him once more, then turned to Erik. "Let me give you a tour? I think the boss wanted to have a word with Charles."</p><p>Erik nodded, giving Charles one last embrace before he got to his feet and followed Raven away. Charles closed his eyes, scanning the camp - there was no sign of distress here. Everyone felt fairly comfortable - at least no more uncomfortable than anywhere else. This wasn't a place of torture for them. When he spotted Logan approaching, he smiled.</p><p>"Just the man I wanted to see."</p><p>"Whatever you're plotting Chuck, I don't want to get too deeply involved. I recognise that expression. I know you've got something on your mind, and it's going to be everyone's problem soon enough." Logan grinned, sitting down in the seat beside him so he didn't have to look up. "You like the show?"</p><p>"I did. I wanted to talk to you about Mortimer."</p><p>"If you're trying to get rid, I don't think Erik's gonna be impressed, and honestly nor would I. That boy didn't belong here."</p><p>"No! I'd never let someone take our son away." Charles frowned, a little horrified at the suggestion. "It's just, he got me thinking. There's a lot of mutants out there, and not all of them... not everyone's going to be happy performing. So if someone needs somewhere to stay -  if we rescue someone and they don't belong in your show... we can find other places. I know what you're doing is wonderful. You give hope to those in need. But we can work together for greater success than either of us could ever dream of alone." Charles swallowed. "I admire what you do, Logan. I always have. But I want to help." He offered out his hand.</p><p>***</p><p>Logan tried not to show his surprise too clearly, even as he was shocked by Chuck's offer. Chuck had never been one for stepping into the limelight. But it appeared that his new partner was good for him. He reached out and shook Charles's hand. Chuck's offer was going to help a lot of mutants in need, whether they realised it or not.</p><p>"Thank you, Logan."</p><p>"It's a good idea you've got. Working together on this." Logan shrugged a little. "Always thought you'd come around eventually."</p><p>"Perhaps." Chuck nodded. "I'm not sure yet what we can do. I'm wondering about some kind of training, helping them learn a skill so they have options that aren't just exhibiting their mutations... I am not sure yet. And I know that Erik very much wants to be involved in rescuing them."</p><p>Logan nodded in understanding. Erik'd been good for Chuck. Had changed him for the better. The man Chuck had been before would never have agreed to visiting a performance - goodness knows Logan'd tried dozens of times. But things were different now. It looked like Chuck wasn't ashamed of what he was any more, and that was because of Erik. "I'll keep him involved."</p><p>Chuck was busy telling him about how things were going in his relationship with Mystique when Chuck's daughter came back, both of Logan's daughters following close behind. Chuck looked at them and smiled. "Have fun, Jean?"</p><p>"Yes! Jace can make pictures and I want to see if I can do that-"</p><p>"We can try," Charles agreed, allowing her up onto his lap as she continued to babble enthusiastically about the possibilities of this potential use for her powers.</p><p>Jace looked happy. That happiness made Logan feel warm, looking forward to the end of the day when he could curl up with Hank. It was already getting late, the sky dark, but he knew he would have a few more hours of things to handle before he could sleep. Still, he couldn't imagine anything better.</p><p>That night, he held Hank close, and knew that somehow, they had won.</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charles felt the warmth of Erik's body pressed against him in bed, the firmness of his muscles against him from hip to waist. Under the blanket, Charles couldn't see their legs, and he had no sensation there. But he had woken with Erik often enough to know that their legs would be tangled together, Erik affectionate and eager for touch in his sleep in a way he never allowed himself to be while awake.</p><p>Erik's head was resting on his shoulder, and for the moment he was still lost in sleep, his thoughts peaceful, easy even. After a lifetime of pain, Erik was truly at rest, and that moment was precious to Charles. Charles took that thought and folded it up small, stored it away in his heart for a day when it might be needed. He had brought Erik peace. And he couldn't help but feel that Erik had done the same for him.</p><p>He wasn't going to move on from what he did. He was going to continue to help other mutants in need, including at times working with scientists so he could keep abreast of what was being learned about mutants. But not everything was going to be about that. He had friends now, true friends who he could be open with, about the nature of his gift and his sister's mutation. He was going to help mutant children in need, educate them, teach them skills and give them hope. And he was going to do it all with Erik at his side. </p><p>Contentment at that thought filled him, like sleeping in a sunbeam. After so many years alone, he was no longer on his own. His relationship with Raven wasn't fixed. Seeing one performance couldn't compensate for a lifetime of misunderstandings and miscommunication. But it was a start. And they were going to work together to see what could be rebuilt. </p><p>He reached out, feeling the minds of the others in the mansion - not dipping beneath the surface, simply ensuring they were all rested, all happy. That there was nothing for him to worry about beyond making sure his family were all safe. Once that concern was satisfied, he was able to rest for a little longer.</p><p>Eventually, he felt Erik's mind slowly unfurl as he shook off sleep. There was no longer the fear or hostility that had once preoccupied Erik as he woke. In its place was a sense of rightness, deeper even than Charles's own contentment. A mixture of the fact that Shaw had gone, and that they had survived. A certainty that what was right had ended up happening, despite all the hardships of the world.</p><p>Charles reached out, pressing a kiss against Erik's forehead. "Good morning."</p><p>"The best," Erik answered, allowing himself a few more moments to cuddle up. </p><p>Charles nodded. "You know, we could wake together every morning, if you wanted it. This could be... this could be forever."</p><p>"I would like that," Erik answered. "And we can argue, of course."</p><p>"Of course." </p><p>"And then we can work together to decide what comes next," Erik insisted, his hand reaching out for Charles's own. "Because we're better together, Charles. Alone, I feel too much anger and you... you get too caught up in how things should be."</p><p>Charles nodded, stretching as best as he could. "I suppose we had better think about breakfast."</p><p>"Breakfast can wait a little longer," Erik answered, a playful smile on his lips. Charles wasn't one to argue, not when Erik looked at him like that.</p><p>***</p><p>Papa and Mister Lehnsherr came down a little late to breakfast, but Jean could tell that they were happy, and anyway Papa wasn't the kind of man to insist that they waited for him, which meant that her and Scott and Mortimer had already started to eat when they arrived.</p><p>Papa wheeled straight to the head of the table and smiled. "How are you all feeling today?"</p><p>"Good, thank you Papa."</p><p>"Better," Mortimer mumbled. Mortimer was always quiet when he spoke, but Jean thought maybe one day he'd feel better about talking. "It were good ta see the circus..."</p><p>"Yes," Papa answered. "It was very good, and I am glad I got to see it with the three of you. Spending time with you is my favourite thing in the world. And Erik and I... Mister Lehnsherr and I might be starting a new business venture, to help mutants in need, but it is important to me that you three know that you are our children. You can always come to us if you need help."</p><p>"I know that, Papa," Jean told him quickly. "You had space to look after Mortimer and Scott as well as me. You can look after other people, too."</p><p>"I can," Papa agreed with a faint smile. "You're a remarkable girl, Jean, and you are completely right. I can take care of you three <i>and</i> others who need our help." He nodded to himself, and she could tell that Papa felt better now, that things were back to making sense for him. She grinned brightly.</p><p>"Papa, can you help me read today?"</p><p>"I would like that very much, dear. There is some correspondence I have to answer first, but when that is done... I would like very much to read with you," Papa answered.</p><p>Mister Lehnsherr nodded. "If the three of you want, I can help you with your writing, or I can begin to teach you Prussian, if you would like."</p><p>Jean considered. A young lady wasn't necessarily meant to learn languages, but she was interested, and she thought it very interesting that Mister Ramsey could speak so many. If she learned a few words, then she would be able to talk to him on his next visit - she was sure he had to know Prussian. </p><p>She nodded quickly. "Please, Mister Lehnsherr." She wondered as she said it whether one day she would call the other man father. It was too early to do it yet. But she wondered, and she hoped.</p><p>Jean also knew that it was very rude to read the thoughts of other people, especially adults. But Mister Lehnsherr sometimes thought very clearly, and at that moment, his thoughts mirrored her own - he was also thinking about if the day would come when they would be a family. </p><p>She smiled to herself, letting the boys agree to be taught - she knew what they were like, that they would always do what she wanted. They were good like that.</p><p>Mister Lehnsherr was smiling to himself, but it wasn't a mean, patronising smile like some of Papa's friends. He was smiling because he was happy, and she was glad that he was happy. She frowned a little when she felt more minds appear, glancing over at Papa.</p><p>"Nothing to worry about, darling. Just some friends," Papa told her, and so she relaxed, following Mister Lehnsherr through to the study, where he set Scott and Mortimer to practicing their writing and began to instruct her. </p><p>She could feel Papa was happy, but she didn't want to spy, so was careful not to push too deeply into his mind. Anyway, learning Prussian was difficult, and she had to concentrate hard to get it right.</p><p>***</p><p>"Thank you, Azazel," Raven said to the other man once they had emerged yet again beside her brother's house. She wasn't sure about this, didn't know if she was ready to forgive him completely. But he had tried. He had gone to see her performance, supported her the way she had always dreamed of. Now it was time for her to return the favour, to show that she was willing to put the past behind them so they could work towards the future.</p><p>Irene's hand was holding tight to her own - more as a comfort than for guidance, Raven suspected. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and then began to walk towards the house.</p><p>Her brother opened the door, looking up at the two of them, a near-blissful expression of hope shining in his eyes. She wanted to yell at him, to tell him not to confuse her. She was afraid she might fall for his lies, but there was such certainty there she didn't know how to address it.</p><p>She almost regretted choosing to come. But she couldn't hide from Charles forever, not if she was serious about working with Logan. That knowledge was what gave her the strength to cross the threshold and offer Charles her hand. </p><p>He shook it without comment, then wheeled back a little. "Come in, both of you. I've asked Alex to fetch us some tea, and then we can talk in my office. I do hope everything is alright."</p><p>Raven braced herself for her brother delving into her mind, trying to invade her privacy. But he held himself back, and there was no unwelcome presence, no sense of being trapped. She breathed a sigh of relief, not sure if she could trust him, but wanting to.</p><p>The knowing smile on Irene's face would have been aggravating if not for how familiar it was, and how fond. Charles showed them through to his study, ensured they were given some tea, and then looked at them curiously. "Is everything alright?"</p><p>"Yes," Irene answered, and Raven relaxed a little. "You know we have found employment at Logan's circus, and both of us are happy there. However, we wanted to offer our assistance to you - I am willing to tutor any student who might need it, and Raven, I believe, could assist Erik in retrieving students for you."</p><p>"You saw this?" Charles asked, and Raven couldn’t help feeling a little smug to know more than him of how Irene's gift worked.</p><p>"Not necessarily. I saw that it was a possible future. I thought it would be a path we could explore, together."</p><p>Raven felt her brother looking at her, not pressing into her mind, but seeing through her nonetheless. </p><p>"That sounds good to me."</p><p>***</p><p>Erik shook his head, looking down at Jean fondly. "I don't doubt that you can do it, Jean, but that doesn't mean you should."</p><p>"Hmm?" Charles asked, wheeling in. "What are we not doing?"</p><p>"Jean was saying she could use her gift to learn Prussian from my mind. I advised against it."</p><p>"I think advising against it is a very good idea, Jean. I think you'll learn much better by speaking it, and you can't just take ideas - you might cause harm."</p><p>"I didn't want to hurt him, Papa," Jean protested. Erik nodded, reaching out to squeeze her small hand and reassure her. She smiled back at him, and he carried on with her lesson. Mortimer was listening as well. For today, he was trying to teach her the numbers from one to ten and how to say her name. </p><p><i>Charles?</i> he asked mentally, as Jean carefully copied down the words for each number. <i>Is all alright?</i></p><p>
  <i>Yes. Everything is... going well. But we need to speak, in private.</i>
</p><p><i>After the children are finished for the day?</i> Erik asked, and Charles smiled, going to help Mortimer with his writing. Erik was relieved - whatever it was, it could wait.</p><p>Later, Charles sat beside Erik on an elegant couch, Erik's body tucked close so his head rested on Charles's shoulder. </p><p>"What did you want to speak about?" Erik asked.</p><p>"Raven has said she can help you rescue mutants, with Miss Adler helping the students."</p><p>"That sounds good. I would be honoured for Miss Raven's support," Erik answered with a fond smile. "She's proved herself more than capable, and I... I should like to spend time with your sister."</p><p>"Then I will tell her we agree." Charles grinned. "I can't wait Erik. We're going to help so many." </p><p>Erik could see the excitement there in Charles's eyes. He couldn't help thinking of the remains of the boy who had suffered so greatly, who had been forced to kill and had spent years running from it. Charles had known what it was like to be abandoned, but he didn't need to be afraid here. He was going to help people. They were going to help people. He leaned up for another kiss, stifling a yawn.</p><p>***</p><p>Warren had been doing exercises every afternoon, because Mister Hank said that it would be the best way for him to recover the strength he had lost. Kurt found himself often nearby when Warren exercised. Mister Hank had said he shouldn't exercise alone, because he might get injured, especially now as his wings were growing stronger, and he would occasionally lift off the ground with particularly strong wingbeats.</p><p>Kurt watched as Warren stretched out his beautiful angelic wings. He couldn't help but feel his heart soar, reminded of the time he had spent trapped, and how things were different now - he wasn't alone, wasn't afraid.</p><p>Warren took a deep breath, screwing his face up, which made his nose wrinkle. There was a momentary pause, and then he flapped those wings, the two sides moving in unison. He lifted up into the air, hovering there for a moment. Another wingbeat, and he rose higher, before he crashed back down. He cursed, rubbing at his foot and panting.</p><p>Kurt teleported to his side immediately, handing him some water and fussing over him in concern, wanting to make sure he could rest. He let Warren drink, careful not to touch his wings because he knew they were sensitive. Warren smiled at him after a few moments.</p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>"Zat is alright. You are not hurt, Varren?"</p><p>"Not hurt, no," Warren agreed, the pain subsiding and leaving hope in its wake. "Did you see, Kurt? I flew."</p><p>"I saw. You really are an angel," Kurt murmured, feeling his face heat purple at the knowledge of what he had said.</p><p>And then, Warren leaned in, his lips brushing Kurt's own. Kurt felt almost dizzy, clutching Warren close, learning how to kiss properly. Warren was a wonderful teacher.</p><p>Eventually, they parted, breathless, and Kurt's tail wrapped around Warren's hip.</p><p>"Zat was nice."</p><p>"Want to try again?" Warren asked, and Kurt nodded.</p><p>***</p><p>Logan tried not to look towards Kurt and Warren as he hurried back to his own caravan - the scent of want that had been coming from both of them had been bad enough, but now apparently they had managed to work out what they wanted and were taking steps in the right direction. </p><p>Logan was sure that the two boys would continue to cause problems. Even if they didn't, his circus was always full of new people, new mutants who had left their old lives behind. As ringmaster, it was his job to lead all of them. </p><p>He could do that. He had to do that, and these people were the closest he had to a family. For them, he would manage anything.</p><p>He pushed open the door to the caravan, seeing that Jace was sat on the bed, Laura on the floor and playing with model metal animals. Hank was perched on a trunk, a book open on his lap and a look of concentration on his face, one blue finger tapping on the page.</p><p>Logan shook his head fondly, perching beside Jace. She had some ribbons in her hands and was braiding them neatly. He ruffled her hair, earning a mild glare, and then helped tie the plaited ribbon around her head, above her stubbly hair, looping it in a large bow. She smiled and leaned in for an embrace which he gave gladly.</p><p>He was surrounded by his family. Whatever came next, they would face it together, and they would bring more mutants home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much to everyone who has read and commented on this universe, and especially to insertsthmeaningful for being an amazing beta. I will possibly return to this universe in future, so let me know if you are interested!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you! Please comment if you've enjoyed, comments mean so much to me!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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